I have been wearing corrective lenses since I was 5 years old. Without them, I am considered legally blind. I’m ridiculously near-sighted and unless something is literally a millimeter from my eyes, I can’t see it without assistance.
Thankfully it’s appearing that neither of my children inherited my vision challenges. My son has 20/20 vision and my daughter only recently got contact lenses. I keenly recall the day the eye doctor told me she needed them. Panic swelled over me as I blurted out – “She won’t be like me, will she?” The doctor assured me this would not be the case. Huge sigh of relief.
However, in the scheme of things, is being near-sighted such a horrible affliction? Is having to pop contact lenses in and out of your eyes for over 40 years a huge inconvenience? No, not really. But as parents, we hope that our kids only get the “good stuff” from us, not the bad.
My ability to see things clearly in the present moment is sometimes blurred. Blurred by false hopes, high expectations, and dreams of perfection. However, looking back over my life, I achieve that nirvana state of 20/20 vision without the assistance of those wiggly pieces of plastic.
How do I do this? The same way we all do. We place our wise selves from today into our not-so-wise self of yesteryear. With that small action, everything becomes clear.
For example, I see now that with no real clarity on the direction for my life, that I simply did what I was told after high school and went to college. I spent nearly the entire time without a major because nothing interested me. It was only in the summer before my senior year, having to take a required computer course, that a spark was ignited. Those machines had the power to make things easy, efficient, and propel us into the next century. I was hooked.
I spent my senior year taking all of my major computer courses. In those days, the bulk of what you learned about computers was programming. COBOL, Fortran, Basic – those were the languages I learned that would turn a database full of bits of information into a perfectly formatted report or letter. Nothing as glamorous as the cool apps of today but this was pretty cool.
Problem was – I stunk at it. For the life of me I could not take the problem that was stated on paper, translate it into the language du jour and make the magic happen. This should not have come as a surprise to me since I struggled with word problems my entire academic career. Why should I expect this to be different?
I got lucky though. After only about three months out of college, I landed my first job. What I quickly learned was that while programming was not my forte, teaching my colleagues how to use those new-fangled IBM personal computers was. Writing the user manuals that documented the step-by-step instructions was another strength. When I was tasked with a bit of programming, I reached out to colleagues who were more expert than I for assistance.
Hmm…speaking, writing, and collaborating.
I look back on my career path and it’s as diverse as a box of chocolates. I’m a bit of an anomaly in corporate America, having both a technical and marketing background. I examine business problems and can easily see solutions. I know how the systems work and can translate the specifics to the layman. I take complex concepts and make them simple. I use my speaking and writing talents to bridge gaps of technical and business and where I have a gap, I find the expert.
I wasn’t supposed to be the world’s best computer programmer. I was supposed to learn how to bring people together over a complex concept, ensure understanding and empathy on both sides, and develop solutions that make neither party feel overly compromised. It’s not exactly what the creators of my undergraduate degree may have envisioned I suspect. However, in looking back over my life, it is only now that I can see how the puzzle pieces of my working and parenting careers, are starting to fit together.
This year, my children will experience big milestones – graduation. My daughter will move on to high school and my son to college. Both are light years from where I was at their age with regards to choosing a career path. Maybe it’s because there’s so much more information available to them. Maybe it’s because it’s in their DNA. Selfishly, I’d like to think it was my incessant probing and questioning about how they could turn their talents into a rewarding career, conversations my parents never had with me.
No matter what the answer, I can rest easy knowing that neither of them will enter this next stage of their lives without having some clarity as to their career path or life calling. Neither will “be like me” and fumble through their career and their lives trying to figure out their purpose. Whether or not their physical vision is or remains 20/20, they’ll have a deeper insight.
And if their visually challenged mom helped them attain this clarity, well… then I will have succeeded at the most important job I’ll ever have.