A few years ago my mom asked that I come move a bunch of my forgotten crap from the closet in my old bedroom. Moms deserve occasional requests like that, so I went and started sorting through a bunch of stuff from childhood.
Tucked into the pocket of a yellow school folder, with a titled cover sheet stapled to a few pages of wide ruled paper, an old elementary assignment called out to curiosity. Some pencil-sketched illustrations had been carefully crafted, the kind I used to do almost daily, planes and nature mostly. The texts were scrawled in heavy practiced cursive. I instinctively knew that this little assignment had once been a big deal. It needed to be read. I had a lot of stuff to move, but couldn’t resist taking a minute.
It was from 3rd grade. The assignment seemed some sort of self-discovery exercise asking us to predict what our future would be. I had written out my life goals/predictions under the title: “Who I will be in 20 years.” I hadn’t remembered doing this at all. The story it told about me was interestingly insightful.
Who I will be in 20 years:
“Be a fishing guide”
“Run a lodge for fly fishing or hunting”
“Have a hunting dog”
“Tie flies for money”
“Probably get married”
“Write fishing stories”
What is wrong with me? I didn’t want to be president? Or a doctor making a bazillion dollars? No mansion? No pro sports career? Or at least a hovercraft?
Nope. I’m fish-obsessed to a fault, and apparently always have been.
I’m extremely lucky I got the marriage part of that oddly prophetic 3rd grade assignment in the books. My wife counteracts many of my innate bum-like tendencies. She inspires me to be better, encourages real jobs, keeps me sane and ensures I maintain a reasonable state of hygiene.
Thank you, Em.
As you have guessed, today I am a fly tyer, a fishing guide, a writer, a dog owner, who ran a lodge and even became a husband. I didn’t have much choice; my destiny was foreshadowed by a #2 pencil when I was 9.
And it has been amazing.
Having checked off all these boxes over the span of this so far incredible life, I’ve learned that there is one of these goals that won’t ever be totally complete.