Seeds of inspiration

I know I am not much of a writer. I guess it is more therapeutic than anything else. It helps to clear up my mind, it helps to deal with issues and to get new visions. Sometimes, when I was writing it was in the months after a break up. As a student in college, after my first big heardache, I started a diary, a book of my own philosophy, and I also started writing down poems. It is said that many great art was done because the artist suffered in some way from life. Not that I am a great artist, or suffer all the time, but the roots may be similar. Sometimes, I catch an idea that I really like and which somehow suddenly just fits into the greater network of things for me, and it solves a problem my mind is concerned with. That's also a good reason to sit down, and write down a note to yourself. I still remember the first time I was writing something which was of a greater value to me. It was a significant event which somehow changed my view of life. It was during a time when the mind of a young individual is shaped. It was in 7th grade, I think. I must have been, around the age of twelve or thirteeen. We had to write an assay in English literature with the topic "What I want to achieve as a grown-up". We had to read in class what we had put on paper. So we heard a lot of I want to be married, have 2 kids and a house and oh yes, I forgot to mention the cars. Someone said bluntly, I want to have a good job and want to become rich, at least that was how I understood it. And there were plenty more imaginary houses, wifes, sportscars and lots of kids jumping up and down above the heads in that classroom. Why would anyone would want to become just like their boring old parents? I didn't get it. Then came the teacher's pets, they wanted to become teachers and help thousands of young minds to florish. At least that was something I could understand, even though it came from the nerds. Then the teacher asked me. She was one of my favorite teachers, simply because I loved reading all the great literature in class. Unfortunately the admiration did not go both ways, my grades were not really great with her, and that's probably why I am not a writer today…. just kidding. Well, I stood up and started reading my one and a half pages full with spelling mistakes. I can still hear me reading, that I aspired to become a wise old man. I explained that I probably would not always reach my goals, but that I would try again and again to achieve these goals, that I wanted to become a wise man who understands the world and would try to use the knowledge to make a difference. When I finished my classmates applauded. I never liked to be the center of attention, but this time I was confident and I knew that what I had written was something which would last. Afterwards even one of the nerds had a crush on me. Not that I had appreciated it very much at the time, well, may be they turned out not too bad as grown-ups. Anyways, we were reading all this great literature, so I never understood why most of my classmates were not inspired at all, but only had that little dream of a happy life in their heads, wife, kids, car and house. I guess society needs both types of people, the ones carrying the traditions on and the ones going off to search and explore. Later in life I sometimes envied them and their happy lifes in their neck of the woods. But for me at this moment and in the following years as a teenager it started to become clear that my life would be different. I still got a bad grade at the end of the year, but that did not affect my admiration for literature which had planted that little seed in a young man's mind which would grow into something new and great. My kids just turned 11 and 12 this year. A while ago they still wanted to become a physician and a rock star, but I can't wait to see if there are any other signs of the choices they will make for their lifes. I am already excited to watch the new seeds grow.