Linda Boyne
July 16, 2008

How many of us are lucky enough to do what we love? Some people have the career that allows them to do exactly what they want to do. If you don’t, you know someone who does. Those guys are everywhere.

Maybe it’s the man who owns the bike shop and clearly enjoys getting people set up with the right bike, talking about riding and putting bikes back together after a big crash. Perhaps it’s the white-collar desk jockey who trades in his master’s degrees for the life of a builder and finds more enjoyment and contentment. Or it’s the woman who lives down the street with little kids who so obviously loves being in the role of mom with a capital M that she doesn’t notice or care that her little one has wiped peanut butter and jelly all over her sleeve. It’s just like an accessory to her outfit.

I’m always curious how people have arrived at this place of contentment. Surely some of them are living out a childhood dream. Is your doctor the little girl in fourth grade who could tell you how many bones are in the human body and explain what snot is and why it’s not just gross? Or maybe you grew up with the boy who knew since he was 8 years old that he wanted to be a professional athlete and worked to make it happen.

Recently in my writing workshop, we were prompted to write a story about what your life would be like if you had the job you wanted as a child. There was a period of time when I wanted to do whatever anyone I encountered during a day of errands with my mom was doing. So around age 5, I was going to be a librarian, a post office clerk, a grocery checker, a bank teller, a dry cleaner and an exercise class instructor (I think I just like the leotard and tights. So glamorous!). It’s hard to imagine that life now. A friend of mine recalls telling her mother she wanted to be a UPS truck when she grew up. Not the driver, the truck. Some dreams are just not destined to come true.

At my boys’ school, the kindergarteners do presentations on what they want to do when they grow up. There were a lot of childrens’ book authors and illustrators, a couple veterinarians, a few astronauts, teachers and hair stylists, and my son, who wanted to be a secret agent. I don’t even know where that idea came from, but he looked darn cute dressed in a suit and sunglasses like a mini CIA agent. It demonstrated the limitless possibilities of childhood.

What about the people doing work they really like, but certainly could not have foreseen as children? Surely there aren’t kids in America today sitting around playing city auditor or medical equipment sales manager. These are obviously the careers we find as we mature, as we develop new skills and discover new things we are passionate about. Or maybe we fall into a job by chance, but discover it’s something we’re really good at and really enjoy. Serendipitous employment enjoyment.

But what happens to our childhood dreams? Where do they go and when exactly do they go by the wayside? At what point did my young self realize that I was far too loud to be a librarian? In some lucky cases our skills become our avocations, what we enjoy when we’re not working. We couldn’t all be on the U.S. Ski Team, you know. They’d run out of uniforms. In others cases, the stuff we learned when we were sure we’d be Navy pilots becomes part of the fascinating things we know, obscure pockets of knowledge we can use to answer trivia questions or interject into cocktail conversations.

I admire those people who follow their passions, especially those who make a big change as adults, who aren’t afraid to take a risk to find their bliss. And while it’s not exactly something I’m making a living at it yet, I do love writing. So I will count myself among the lucky.


Linda Boyne is an Edwards resident and a regular columnist for the Vail Trail. E-mail comments about this column to editor@vailtrail.com.