when i was 8, i wanted to be an archaeologist. it probably had something to do with the fact that i read nothing but books on dinosaurs for the most part of my time in hong kong. i shared those ambitions with my father one day and he responded with a dry-as-ice, “well, you’ll probably dig for more than 20 years and if you’re lucky you’ll discover a new species of dinosaur, but you’re more likely to not find anything at all and die penniless.“
it’s not a very pleasant memory but it has found a itself a home inside my head, emerging to haunt me every now and then. perhaps i have my father to thank for teaching me about separating dreams and reality at such a young age, i have him to thank for moulding me into the rational, cynical person i am today. then again, i sometimes wonder what would have happened if i were given permission to dream and give those dreams a chance.
i have never tried to hide my impatience at knowing what the future holds. i want to know now, nownownownowNOW, so i can sleep easy knowing that i am on the right path or, if i have taken a detour, get my arse back on track. yeah, i will (hopefully) get my mbbs next year and serve 5-10 years of my bond so that part of my life is pretty much secured, but what happens after that?
i am so certain that i won’t be a physician for life that i am beginning to doubt those certainties. my desire to work for an ngo one day is probably fuelled by ego-centric self-glorifying motives and it scares me that whatever i am working for today is going to be useless for tomorrow. that i will be of no use to God. dispensible. gone awry.
it’s easy to quote scripture (jeremiah 29:11), it’s another thing altogether to believe it wholly and completely, with no impatience or frustration. i am impatient and frustrated. i want to know where the heck i am going. i want to be sure i’m going the right direction.
i don’t want to wake up one day and find that my dreams, the ones that were quashed long ago, were what i should have chased all along.