Born to be...

Most of the 49 years that I’ve lived on this cosmic rock have been spent searching for what I was born to do. My raison d'être. Lately, I have come to realize that it is preposterous to believe that there is a single thing, above all others, that I was put on this earth to do. Indeed, the world of possibilities is far too great to resign myself to having only one calling.

For example, I’ve been tempted to proclaim at times that I was born to be a stay-at-home dad, a primary school teacher, and a professional writer. In the last few months, I’ve felt strongly that my purpose in life is to be a grandparent. What if I was born to be all of those things? What if I was born to be none of them?

What if I was born to be much more?

Why do we human beings obsess over discovering our one true calling? We say to one another, “This is what I was born to do,” but can it possibly be true that each of us was born to fulfill just one predestined purpose?

 

Ever since my granddaughter Freya was born, I have spent as much time with her as possible. In that time, I have discovered that I want to be Freya’s “Pop” more than anything else in the world. Does that mean I was born to be a grandparent? Is that the elusive purpose I have been searching for all these years?

Last school year, before Freya was born, I was pretty convinced that I was born to be a music teacher. After accepting a temporary music teaching position, researching ways to obtain a permanent teaching certificate, creating my own curriculum from scratch, staging six musical performances, and teaching 475 primary school students everything I know about music, the best professional experience of my life was suddenly terminated by the Coronavirus pandemic. After a great deal of soul searching during the ensuing shutdown, I realized that as much as I loved the job, I was not mentally strong enough to do it for the rest of my working life. I was not born to be a full-time teacher.

Before I accepted the music teacher position, I was a substitute teacher. This is my ninth year of subbing at Southern Boone, and I have no problem telling you that I am pretty good at my job. And I have had so much fun doing it over the years. At times I have felt like substitute teaching was my calling. However, after the exhilaration of teaching music full-time last year and the realities of subbing during a pandemic this year, I realize that I do not love subbing as much as I used to. I was not born to be a substitute teacher.

Before I started subbing, I was beginning to find my voice as a writer. Back in 2003, I had a couple of pieces published in the Columbia Business Times as a freelance reporter, but I didn’t like being assigned stories by an editor, so decided to start a blog with the hope that it would lead to landing my own newspaper column someday. In 2011, that dream came true. 

That same year, I self-published my first book, Naked Snow Angels. Between my column in the Boone County Journal and a novel that sold a few hundred copies, I felt like I was on my way to becoming a full-time, professional writer. I felt like it was what I was born to do.

A funny thing happened on the way to becoming a best-selling author: I became a very busy substitute teacher. I started subbing in 2012 when all of my kids were finally old enough to be in school and I suddenly had extra free time on my hands. That time was supposed to be for writing, but after being a stay-at-home dad for several years, I wanted to have a job outside of the house. Subbing gradually took over my life. Ten years after Naked Snow Angels was published, I have yet to write a second novel, although I have compiled my weekly newspaper columns into three self-published volumes. 

Being a stay-at-home parent was a rewarding, exhausting, full-time job. I enjoyed it very much, and I was convinced that it was what I was born to do. I feel the same way about being a stay-at-home grandparent. While Freya and her parents have been living at our house, I have been lucky enough to watch Freya while Alex and Sarah do homework, write papers, take tests, and attend classes—when I’m not busy teaching school, that is. 

In order to be available to babysit whenever they have school or work obligations in the future, I have decided to stop accepting substitute teaching assignments after Spring Break.

I feel like I was born to be a parent, a grandparent, and a writer. It’s time to devote myself fully to my true callings.