{Thoughtful Thursday} Alan Watts

Pay attention.

I was introduced to this video by a successful man who seems to have his dreams and goals in mind at all times. When I met him four summers ago, he had every one of his ducks in a row: an unbelievable talent for basketball meant a golden pathway paved with recruiters, scholarships, and opportunities galore. This guy had confidence to spare and every right to it. He was doing what he loved and being richly rewarded for it. We sparsely renewed our friendship following our first encounter, and I gathered after a year or so of infrequent text messages that his health had fallen to a critical level due to several complications. Problems compounded until he was rendered physically incapable of playing hardly at all, let alone the way he used to. He lost his scholarship and with it flew his immaculately coordinated future. At this point in our relationship, we weren't close enough for such news to impact me to any real extent. I offered my condolences and again we fell out of touch, this time leaving about a year between contact.

The next time we spoke, my acquaintance had thankfully recovered from his illnesses and begun, little by little, to piece his life back together. He regained his health, his friends, and a new found confidence that is now rife with humility. Aside from dabbling in other interests, he started playing basketball again. Satisfied with the knowledge that he was doing significantly better, I was once more alright with the both of us quietly returning to our separate lives. Recently I had the choice fortune of visiting with this long-distance friend in person. To spare ourselves from a horribly awkward silence, we played music on the drive home after I had picked him up from the airport. This music sparked between us the easy conversation of lifelong comrades, and halfway home he played the video so that I could listen. Though it was profound to me at the time, it did not remain at the forefront of my intellect for more than the few lingering minutes following its conclusion.

Over the course of his weekend visit, I came to understand my associate with a fullness generally designated only to immediate family members and the dearest of companions. Of his many striking characteristics, I found the motivations attached to his dreams to be most salient. He wants to coach. Given his firsthand experience in sports and their psychological effects - positive and negative - this desire is almost a no-brainer. He wants to have the resources to provide for his future family, but also live within his means so he can teach his children the same values.

This brings me to what I personally consider the most honorable of his goals, which is that of being a husband and father. I emphasize this word as he did when he explained it to me. So many men serve their purpose as breadwinner and physical provider for the family, satiated in the singular act of offering financial security. A husband knows what his wife likes and dislikes; he gardens and cooks eggs with her; he teases her and comforts her; he makes her laugh and loves her the most when she is truly herself. A father is involved with his children in every aspect of life. He takes them to the zoo and reads them bedtime stories; he listens to even the most irrational of concerns before responding with the advice he feels inspired to offer; he teaches them to think for themselves; he is forgiving of mistakes and truly proud of the small triumphs; he wakes up before his high schoolers just so he can be sitting at the table in a cardigan, glasses, and loafers reading the paper, ready to wish them luck on the midterm or the speech.

This got me thinking. I have always wanted to be a mother. Well, there was a difficult stage around the age of six when I realized that I had to keep the cootie-infested man who gave me the baby. Since then, though, I've come to recognize the inherent beauty of the family unit. I have such a deep-rooted love for the husband and children who one day I'll get to call mine that I can't imagine a future without them. To the world this may not seem impressive or noteworthy; people tie the knot and give birth every day! But to be a mother, in every sense of the word's true form, is a position to hold in the highest regard.

The dream of being a good parent, if its motivations are unselfish and charitable, is one that requires hard work and passion, just like any other high-reaching goal. This is one purpose I find no trouble in finding cause for.

Now, let's look at the truth right in its face: I'm not getting married anytime soon. Just get a handle on that real quick. In the meantime, I want to find my ardor. To tie my tangent back to the video, what would I do if money were no object? I wish I could tell you I know exactly where I'll be even three years from this day, but as of now I am afraid I cannot. Throughout my young life I have developed countless aspirations connected to both culminated talents and hopelessly whimsical fantasies. I'll be a singer! An actress! A teacher! A dancer! A therapist! An ambassador! A pianist! A fashion designer! A journalist! I'll be unicorn farmer, for goodness' sake. Call me a late bloomer, but I'm still searching for that one skill I wish to perfect to a science.

When I was younger, I remember being asked often what I'd like to be when I grow up. I was encouraged to be anything I wanted to be, no matter how outside-the-box my ideas were. More and more now, I keep seeing advertisements from community colleges telling me to study this or that, because "everyone knows that health care is where the jobs are!" If that isn't an open stab at the abhorrent state of our economy, I don't know what is. We all need work because we all need money because we all need to live. Go back and watch the video again. Find a way to get by doing what you love, and you won't work another day in your life. You've heard it far too many times, but "When there's a will, there's a way!" This applies here. I'm prepared to find my dream and find my will. The world may tell me no, but I won't give up hope. There is always a way.

Happy trailblazing!