Pablo Picasso once said every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up. Where, then, is the disconnect between the mind of a twenty-something college student and the mind of a child who is willing to go to a place of unlimited imagination.
I’ve learned that life never stops changing. Each year brings with it textbooks of transitions that redefine my idea of normal. Starting in the realm of right-out-of-high-school higher education, it’s easy to believe that crazy life-change only happens between years 18 and 20, but as far as anyone is concerned, adaptability is something that never ceases to confront us.
In response to a life that will always be in transition, one must continue to be ever-present in the inner dreaming of a child. I dislike the word “child”, because it makes me feel small. Nevertheless, big things come out of big dreams. Every person has felt a fire in them that consumes the fabric of possible and screams for them to move into a state of believing they can do something monumental.
In this season, it’s crucial to believe in the capability. Feed the innovative child-likeness and jump off the side of a cliff to see what God will do.
Pay attention to the beauty found in daily life, in the sacred and the secular. Sit down and have a long phone conversation about something unimportant; breathe deep in painting-like scenery; go do something outside of the border of comfortable. Discover things. Be known by people. Be greatly creative. There is a balance formed by taking in the beauty of the small moments and the enormity of large dreams. Together, they create wonder.
Is it impossible to believe there are things in this world each person was made for that will break eternal boundaries? As for journalism, writing and my concept of what life after college will look like— these moments writing here are mine.
A few months back, I was working on a piece related to a historic music museum collection for a news magazine, and they held a packed-out press conference for the general public. Amid the frenzy, I snuck out to see the rest of the gallery and ran right into a media relations representative for the organization. After introducing myself, I spoke with him for a bit and got information for my piece. As I exited the elevator we were sharing, he remarked that he himself used to be an aspiring journalist.
“Keep being a journalist, keep doing what you are doing,” he told me, as the elevator doors closed. “The world needs reporters like you.”
The affirmation from that moment is what I also want to say to the minds and eyes that have made it this far down the page and even this far in the paper. Keep doing what you’re doing; the world needs it.