WRITING PROMPT #22
When You Were a Kid, What Did You Want to Be When You Grew Up?
Theme: Self-Reflection
Theme: Self-reflection
Housekeeping Rules:
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If you’re responding to this writing prompt, please use Writing Prompt 22 in the Kicker.
And, as always, use this weekly prompt to get your writing juices flowing this week or any week after.
If you would prefer to use a previous writing prompt to inspire you, feel free to check out this list.
WRITING PROMPT
When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?
Feel free to be creative with your submission (i.e. write a poem, flash fiction, combination of poetry and prose, song, play, etc.).
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Here’s me
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a surgeon. I don’t know where that came from, but I knew I wanted to help other people be healthy. That hasn’t changed to this date.
Unfortunately, when I was about 12, we were in Frankfurt, Germany for a short stay while my father was having some blood tests run.
While we were there, I happened to be looking out the window of the flat we were staying in. I saw the gardener (a grumpy old guy) had fallen and apparently hit his head on the cement. Blood stained the gray block of sidewalk and I found myself immediately becoming nauseous, complete with sweaty palms and forehead.
I knew right then my body was showing me that … y’know … maybe being a surgeon wasn’t in my future.
But I was not going to give up. I sat on the bed for a minute, and gathered myself, allowing the nausea to wane. I got back up to peek out the window again.
Nope, same reaction. This time I was tearing down the hall towards the bathroom as my father was looking at me with that what’s-happening look.
I didn’t hurl, but the second reaction seemed to be a firm confirmation that being a surgeon was not in my future.
When I look back at that time, it seemed so obvious to me. And, I remember thinking, well, I guess that’s that. I left being a surgeon on the kitchen table with the other career choices that society had deemed prestigious.
And it felt good. I remember that. At the age of 12, I knew it was right to let it go, and it felt good.
Door #2 would be apparent at the right time. It didn’t take that long for me to “see” that door #2 had existed all along. I was already writing poetry and short stories.
And, a few days later, I found myself a bit relieved. Interesting, right?
What about you? What did you want to be when you grew up?
Of course, this assumes that you have grown up … because some days, even I question whether I have made that leap. The continual phrase, I’m a work in progress seems to remind me that growing up is a process and the journey only ends when my life goes full circle back to dust.
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