I loved going to Grandma and Grandpa’s as a kid.
They lived on a farm right down the road from me, but every time I visited felt like a grand occasion.
Some of my memories on the farm involved reading, one book in particular coming to mind: “All About Me.” It involved answering simple questions about yourself, which were answered by the reader with writing and drawing. “Who is in your family?” “What do you want to do when you grow up?” The sheets of paper were then assembled as a book, thanks to Grandpa’s stapler.
I made countless versions of that book – each one different; not simply by drawing different pictures, but giving different (yet truthful) answers.
A colleague today said her little girl had said she wanted to be a doctor, but changed her mind to zookeeper. The little girl indicated she was reluctant to change her mind – as if she wasn’t supposed to. Mom reassured her that changing her mind is OK.
And it is.
In college I started out as a biology major (true story), and stuck with it for a couple years. To say the least, it the subject wasn’t for me, but I was stubborn and refused to “shop around” for a different major – Doane Plan be damned. By some stroke of fate, I ended up in an English writing class. I was sold. Soon thereafter, I took a journalism class. I was all in.
Between switching majors so late in the game, and going part time for a while, it took me longer to get my degree. During my last year of college I took a class about the history of the American Revolution. I had taken a history class the semester before and loved it, but learning about the American Revolution was fascinating. Unfortunately, it was far too late to add a minor – let alone a major – in history. I wish I had kept an open mind instead of grasping on, white-knuckled, to biology.
People change, so changing one’s mind comes with the territory. It’s kind of a form of self-creativity. Of course, it’s to be done responsibly and not recklessly – there is great power in making an educated decision.