The Lost Centipede...

I remember when I was young I would dream about being a private investigator; stealthily catching bad guys in dark alleys. Then, when I was a teenager, I wanted to be an accountant until my dad told me I'd pull my hair out by the time I was 30. I like my hair so I decided that wasn't the profession for me. The question of what I want to be when I grow up, despite having a successful career and a master's degree, is something I still don't know the answer to.

I admire Vincent Van Gogh's passion and commitment to painting. Despite dying poor and having only sold one painting in his lifetime he said, "I can't change the fact that my paintings won't sell. But the time will come when people will recognize that they are worth more than the value of the paints used in the picture."   

In past times I've tended to look to others for approval with choices I made, not knowing if I was on the "right" path. But, much like Van Gogh, I realize it's not about right or wrong, lucrative or not, socially acceptable or shunned, it's about passion, love and a life lived, not deferred for acceptance. When it's all said and done, wouldn't you rather be regret-free and happy?