My life as a Chooseologist

 

divergentWhat do you want to be when you grow up?

Yesterday I was asked by my daughter whether I dreamed about becoming a Psychologist when I was her age? I told her that when I was her age, I dreamed of becoming an inventor, creating new things out of throwaway boxes and junk.

So far, my career includes titles like being a Counselling Therapist, a Family Counsellor, an Addiction Counsellor, a Manager and a Writer. The theme that runs through each of these roles is being a re/inventor. I think I may have finally grown up…

“Do you need a title to give you ‘permission’

to live the life that you want to live?”

My daughter described her dream to become an Archaeologist, a Zoologist or a Marine Biologist. I wondered if I will need to become a Money-Ologist to pay for all of the Ology that is going to happen in our house?

The conversation got me thinking about how we define ourselves: Does becoming an “Ologist” define you as a person? Do you need a title to give you “permission” to live the life that you want to live?

Some time ago I was in a meeting where someone stated that they like working with health professionals who are regulated (ie: Social Workers or Psychologists) because in her mind, that helps her understand what they do. The Rebel in me decided to have a little fun with this. I introduced myself to the group by stating that I am not a Psychologist but that I am Divergent. Puzzled looks were sent my way. [If you have not seen the movie, Divergent, read the books and then see the movie. Are we in a simulation right now? Think about it]

How is it that a title defines who we are or

what we think about each other? 

Parents may grapple for years with their child’s behaviors and emotions. The struggle can tears their hearts apart. They hope that if their child can get a diagnosis, somehow they will understand why their child is struggling and find a treatment that will (magically?) work.

Unfortunately, for most people a diagnosis will provide no more clarity than a pair of glasses. All that glasses do is help you to see more detail. Where you look and how you perceive is still up to you. A diagnosis only provides more detail. The work still needs to be done. Change is hard. Becoming a Chooseologist is not something we get from attending a class or from getting a title.

Become a Chooseologist

I can’t tell you what will help you choose yourself, I can only say what works for me. It’s pretty simple (I like simple rules). I try to do things that make me feel more alive and be with people who make me feel more alive.  

  • Spend time connecting with and loving my family
  • Being with people I respect
  • Laughing and making people laugh at my stories
  • Being creative every day
  • Making my struggles and pain into learning experiences
  • Having faith, taking risks and being vulnerable
  • Family pancake dinners, BBQ’s and beer
  • Begin Canadian

What is on your list, what motivates you to choose yourself? You don’t need an Orgy of Ologies to make your life better. What are you waiting for?

“Nobody can tell you what to do. No matter what they pay you. No matter what obligations you feel you owe them. Every second defines you. Be who you are, not who anyone else is, or who anyone else wants you to be.”
James Altucher, Choose Yourself

If you like this article, you will also like my piece on Why Your Business Card May be Ruining Your Life.

 

Keep it real.

This article is a reworking of a previous article of the same title. If you are interested, you can find the original here.


4 thoughts on “My life as a Chooseologist

  1. Great post Sean. I think we need to really teach our kids to reach for The Stars! We all have the ability within us to be anything we want to be. Becoming a published author was never on my “bucket list,” but at 50 years old I became a published author! LOL. No matter how long it takes? Never give up on your “Dreams!”

    Much Happiness,
    Catherine 🙂 XO

    Like

  2. Inventor as you were, do you remember when you took my “best” watch apart – and lost the innards because you couldn’t put it back together?? That was a fun time!

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