When I was a child, I loved to make doll clothes for my Mme Alexander doll. I sat for hours under our blossoming cherry tree in the spring and summer months with a small suitcase full of doll clothes, a bag of fabric scraps and a sewing kit. I stitched by hand, sewed on buttons and snaps, decorated with sequins and rickrack. My creations made me content. I remember handwashing then ironing those tiny clothes. One Christmas, Santa brought me a tiny toy Singer sewing machine that actually sewed!
An article I read recently claimed that all children between seven and ten know what they want to be/do in life. They know it is the thing that will make them happiest. If we are honest with ourselves and can remember back to age eight, we knew what we wanted to do with our lives. Most of us go far afield and don't understand why our occupations don't satisfy us.
I don't think I'd be happy as a professional doll clothes maker. But my happiest childhood memories are of drawing pictures, writing stories or any other creative pursuit. Time seemed to melt while I was in a "right-brain" activity. I haven't lived a creative life, much to my chagrin.
Think about your childhood for a moment. What were your favorite activities? Your favorite place to play? What was that environment like? Do your memories evoke specific sights, scents, and sounds? What did you do there? What did it look like and feel like? Did this place change along with the seasons? What sort of games did you play and what did you discover there?
What did you forget to become . . .?