The other evening I met with my young (20-something-if that) classmates to work on our group project. As much as I detest group projects, I welcome the opportunity to get to know these young fellows. I tend to be somewhat discriminatory towards today's youth, but these kids are just so nice-good, clean cut kids trying to get an education. The one young fellow (the one who reminds me of my son) is immensely talented. For our project, he has done some "drawings" on the computer which are extraordinary. He did them "free hand", so to speak, his tool being a mouse rather than a pencil or paint brush. He is talented, and loves doing it. Computer graphics, however, is not his major. He is majoring in something entirely different. We asked him why, when he obviously enjoys this so much. His reply was "Well, then it would be work." That remark got me wondering. The general conception is that one should find what one loves to do, and then figure out a way to earn a living doing it. On one hand, this makes perfect sense. After all, most people do spend the greater part of their lives "working". But I believe this young man may be on to something. For example, I have a friend who has been lamenting that she didn't pursue a career dancing when she was younger, and perhaps become a professional dancer. However, at this time in her life, dancing is her hobby, and she enjoys it immensely. Would she derive such joy from dancing now had it been her profession? One can only surmise. As for me, yes, I do have regrets that I didn't pursue a writing career as a young adult. But again, I write for enjoyment now. No pressure, except that which is self imposed. Writer's block, as I have experienced of late, does not mean that I won't eat or pay my rent. I have my real job for that. So would earning a leaving doing that which we love cause a lifetime of enjoying one's work, or a contempt for that which we once enjoyed? I guess it's up to the individual. It is food for thought, however.
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