November 24th 2015
Today I overheard a conversation between a mother and her two kids. She asked them a simple question “What do you want to be when you’re older?” And one of the boys said after some deliberation… “I want to build things. I want to be a builder.” And the other said he wanted to be a bin man.
That’s about all I heard of the conversation, but it really hit me.
Three seconds it took that kid to decide what he wanted to do in life. Three seconds. I’ve been thinking about it every every day for three years and I’m still no closer to making a decision than I was before I started Uni. Now I’ve graduated, been travelling and what…? Nothing, yet.
There’s a decent chance that that kid won’t end up being a builder. But it doesn’t matter. Because he made a choice.
My ‘builder’ job was to be a pilot. That’s what I always wanted to do. Ever since I was young. One time my parents organised it so that I was allowed in the cockpit of an airplane in flight to see what the pilots do during the flight. (This was before 9/11, when they let you do that kinda stuff)
I did my work experience at Cardiff airport at aged 16. By then I’d moved on from Piloting to Air Traffic Control. And I was semi serious about that for a bit. But you don’t need a degree for that, and I wanted to go to Uni. So I went to Uni in the hope of finding what I really wanted to do. But I haven’t yet. I’ll let you know if I do.
I mean, I want to write a book that is later made into a film, someone will buy the rights off me and there will be a film made about my story. That’s the end goal for my writing ‘career’, but that’s not sustainable. I’ve accepted that. I don’t know if I’m going that way or if that’s just my pilot career at the moment.
I could end up in a bank.
Until tomorrow, I don’t want to end up in a bank.