The question that many of us face, especially when staring down the long road of life decisions through the doorway to adulthood: Do I pursue the thing that occupies my heart and mind, that makes me feel alive? Do I feed my dream? Or do I feed myself, my partner, my children?

Some are fortunate to discover they can do both. Some are afforded places in life that blur the distinction between the two, so they in effect become indistinguishable from each other. I did not fall within either of those camps. When choosing my life’s direction, I had to make hard choices.

I knew my passion

There were two things I knew I wanted to be “when I grew up,” and a professional writer was one of them. Creating art through pencil or word processor was a constant companion to my development as a person, from childhood into adolescence, to young adulthood. Unfinished stories crowded my thoughts, ebbing in and out with each new book or show or game I encountered. Pages of manuscripts filled my backpack, acted as bookmarks for textbooks, and filled disk space on the old computer. My chores sat unattended as visions of books with my name on the spine, of interviews, of book signings stole my attention.

I knew I had a responsibility

But the specter of responsibility could not be thwarted. The first big awakening came when, as a high school senior, my scout leader tasked my troop with researching a career of our choosing and presenting our findings to the group at a later date. My dreams of working through life behind a keyboard exploring every reach of my imagination darkened when I discovered the average annual pay for professional writers. There were bigger things I wanted in life, such as a family, and I knew that for me, writing would not work. The second big awakening came when a medical diagnosis earlier in my life precluded me from pursuing a career in the military.

I had to make a choice

So, I walked across the threshold to adulthood. I took business classes (history and political science don’t pay that well either). I read books and observed business behaviors and forced my hardcore introvert self to engage in networking. I went through undergraduate and graduate school with a mind toward practical employment. I devoted myself to the craft I’d settled on and was fortunate to find other interests that added fulfillment to the path I’d chosen. And I succeeded insofar as my personal goals were concerned and in present-day retrospection. In my current profession, I have helped save lives and comforted the families of those who couldn’t be saved. My family is sufficiently provided for.

Life is more than one choice, it’s many choices

But the passion remains. Though I boxed it away over the years to focus on the practical, it has remained with me throughout. More so now, as I’ve progressed through my profession, as my work and life expectations have changed, I find it more and more difficult to push my creativity to the periphery. I cannot excise the deep need for creativity from myself, because it’s not something I need to rid myself of nor something I have the ability to do.

I’ve been fortunate that life choices, combined with luck, have brought me to a point in my life where the differences between passion and practicality have begun to blur and blend together. Even now, as I move further into middle age, as I naturally look back at the roads taken and the ones abandoned or avoided and I come to better understand value and meaning in the context of my life, I must always choose practicality over passion. But I think the road ahead of me may have a fork in it and I may be able to tread a path where there is room for passion to walk openly beside me.

Writing as a new career

With that as my hope, I’m embarking now on a new heading. I’m dedicating more time to applying the worlds that have dwelled in my head for decades to physical stories, on a page, in a manuscript, with the intention of publishing them. I’m learning new skills about content marketing, self-publishing, contracting, and business operations, all while trying to better hone the craft I’ve always loved. It is my hope that, with a combination of good life choices and luck, I will find meaningful success in this endeavor as well. And that I will be able to provide value to others and seeds for other imaginations to grow.

No regrets

I do not regret the practical decision I made as a senior in high school. Or the other ones I made on my life’s journey up to now. Unseen blessings and growth came from them that I wouldn’t give away if today I were offered the world in exchange. Rather, I look forward to the ones I hope to make in the coming years.