PIGEONHOLED

(sigh)

We were like plankton, we baby boomers. We bought into the American dream of Elysium...the house with the white picket fence restraining two freckle-faced kids who, when asked, said they wanted to be 1) a policeman 2) a fireman 3) a homemaker 4) a secretary (depending on the sex of the child, of course, since the term "unisex" had not yet been coined).

Somewhere in the mezzanine of my mind there has been an implosion. This implosion has resulted in a major change in philosophy: I now refuse to be plankton.

As I was ruminating (yes, ruminating) the other day about what I wanna be when I grow up, I thought how sad it is that back in the day none of us had the foresight to think for ourselves to any great degree. We were oblivious. We were cattle. We were brainwashed. We were
S T U P I D. There. I said it.

No one told us there were occupations we could pursue that were, God forbid, DIFFERENT from the norm. How many kids who caddied on the golf course knew they could play golf for a living? How many kids whose fathers worked at the paper mill knew they could be an FBI Agent/a pilot/a playwright/a Wall Street broker? Not many, I guarantee you.

So what's my point? It's this. After being a wife/a mother/a grandmother for most of my adult life, I've just now decided what I wish I had done with my life. I'm not in any way implying that I regret having my children. My children and grandchildren are the light of my life and I really don't know what I'd do without them. But my identity then (and even now, by and large) is that of "Daren's and Shannon's mom," "Cody's and Dusty's grandmom." And you know what? I didn't mind it then (remember what I said? S T U P I D). I could have been all that and ALSO been my own person, but I was too caught up in that dumb-ass American dream.

It's only been the past couple of years that I wish I had MADE THE TIME to pursue my own interests. Writing has always been fun for me -- an outlet, a creative process, a means to resolve a problem. Once I start to write about a subject, all sorts of ideas come to me; I've come to terms with a lot of issues just by putting pen to paper. It's ENJOYABLE. How terrific would it have been to have worked at a job I truly ENJOYED! But it never occurred to me that I could do something like that. Writing was just a "hobby."

Did I have enough arrogance to think that anything I would write would be interesting to anyone else? Probably not because when I started this blog I figured it would be another hobby of mine -- that no one would read it or care about what I had to say. But I've been astounded at the number of emails I get as a result of this blog, so there are folks out there reading it and evidently being amused or touched by some of the posts. That humbles me.

The beauty of the blog is that I don't have to write in the third person omniscient or the third person limited or be concerned about point of view because it's MY point of view. It's first person all the way. It's ME talking here for a change.

I just wish I had been nekton instead of plankton 40 years ago.

(sigh)