The Way I See It

The way I see it
A very rough first draft
By Trevor Gustafson

Vision is a gift that all of us have been given. Even those who are blind can see. I am not talking about eye sight explicitly, but rather any contact with the world around us. Even Helen Keller, a girl who was both blind and deaf, had contact with the world around her. Sure she could not see the things around her, or hear the people around her, but she could still paint a picture in her mind of her world. She could still make assumptions, true or false. She could still long for something better. All of these things she could do, just like you and me.
The clearness of our vision is based on our perspective. If we can only see part of the picture, we will not have a good idea of what the picture says. There is an old Far East Indian folk tail of six blind men who see an elephant. Of course since they are blind, they do not see with their eyes, but rather with their hands. One of the six touched the elephant’s leg. Because of this he thought that an elephant was tall and round like a pillar. The second man felt the tail. He felt that what he was holding was long and flexible like a rope. The third man felt the trunk. He assumed that the elephant was like a branch of a tree. The fourth man felt the elephants enormous ear. He assumed that the ear must be like a fan. Feeling the tusks, the fifth man assumed that an elephant is like a solid pipe. The six man, feeling the belly, assumed that an elephant is like a wall. All these men were right: an elephant is like all these things, but all these things are only portions of an elephant.
Several religions have taken examples like this story to far and have said that since there are many truths as to what an elephant is like, there are also many truths in life so we should accept that others have a different belief system than us. The problem with that is that when the men felt the different parts of the elephant, the parts didn’t contradict each other; they were just many different parts of the same item. However some people believe that beliefs that contradict each other can both be true. This can never be. Water cannot be both hot and cold. A room cannot be both light and dark.
Just like not seeing the whole picture, another thing that will deter our vision is preconceived ideas. Preconceived ideas are not all bad by any means. Some preconceived ideas can speed our process of seeing the picture. If we start fixing the car knowing what sound we heard before the car broke down, we can find and fix the problem faster. Other preconceived ideas can deter us from seeing the picture. Most of us have probably had experiences when we either misjudged others or were misjudged ourselves. We see a man with grubby clothes and we assume he’s poor. That may not be the case. There are a multitude of reasons someone could be wearing grubby clothes, but our brains have bee programmed to believe that grubby clothes are a sign of poorness. We have been talking a lot about preconceived ideas in my art class. When we draw an apple do we draw a perfect little circle with the stem sticking out and the one little leaf? Or do we include the chunk bitten out, the way it’s a little crooked, and the two leaves? The idea in art class has been to get away from preconceived ideas about what an apple should look like, and draw what’s really there. Just like in drawing, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but should examine the facts of what is really there.
Why is it we like the perfect little apple without the teeth marks and bruises? It’s because we long for a perfect world. We long for the fairy land world where no one tells lies, no one gets hurt, and everything goes the way we planned. Can we look to any place on earth where that is happening? No we can’t. Not even the rich have a fairy land world. The rich are never satisfied, they always want more. As the MasterCard commercial says, “there are some things money can’t buy.” One of those things is the perfect world.
Sometimes what jumbles our vision is not seeing only part of the picture or even having preconceived ideas about the picture, but rather an outright refusal to believe or take in what we see. As a person who enjoys photography, I have had many situations when I have seen “the perfect shot,” gotten out my camera, gotten ready to set up the picture only to realize there was a humongous tree in the centre of my view. Had the tree not been there before? Of course it had been there, but I had refused to accept its existence. Had my eyes literally passed over the tree? Of course not. This reminds me of how Erin McGraw in her essay Bad Eyes shares how she married someone only to have the marriage go south. She tells how even before the marriage, she took little pleasure in being around her fiancé. Her friends tried to point this out to her, but she refused to listen. The result was a failed marriage.
Sometimes we refuse to see things because we have become immune to them. We have been desensitized. When we see in the news that Britney Spears had yet another breakup, do we get shocked that this woman could take relationship so nonchalantly, or do we just brush it off as another crazy celebrity? When we see pictures of a horrible crime on the late night news, do we think about how terrible it is, or just brush it off as another news item? The more we are confronted with evil, the more immune we become to it. Recently our family watched the 1963 classic horror film, “The Birds.” Now I have not watched many horror films at all, but this classic seamed tame compared to the bits and pieces of the modern day horror films I have seen.
Not only can we become desensitized to evil, but we can also become desensitized to change. When we see a tragedy on the news, we want to help. When we saw footage of the devastation in New Orleans, many people wanted to help. But as time wore on, and stations began playing the same footage over and over again, people became desensitized. No longer was this a tragedy, it was now a news story.
Why do we become desensitized? Why do we just accept? Because we have lost a grasp of the picture. We feel that our dream of a perfect society can never come about. And indeed there will never be a perfect society on this earth, human kind is too wicked for that, but there can be change. Unfortunately we allow other things to influence us and tell us that the way things are is the way things are. If children are dying from aids in Africa that’s just the way it is. If we have a problem with an addiction that’s just the way it is. When we allow things to influence us like this, we put on their glasses of seeing the world and abandon our own eyes. We shouldn’t see our world just the way others see it, but with our own eyes. With our own dreams. With our own goals.
At what point do we see the entire picture clearly? At no point on this earth can we see the entire picture. We can never understand why everything in this world happens the way it does. When we live life, it’s like we’re standing right in front of a picture the size of a football field. There is no way we can see the whole picture. Only once we have died will everything be revealed. But here on earth we have a tool that enables us to see the big picture. That tool is the Bible. It acts as a mirror showing us the picture of life. However even with this mirror, everything is not revealed. We still don’t know why God allows bad things to happen to good people. Or many other mysterious things about God, but the bible does give us insight for life on earth.

The loss of the creature

Trevor Gustafson’s response to
The Loss of the Creature by Walker Percy

My knuckles tighten instinctively onto the seat in front of me as I stare out the van windows. On one side of our van is a near vertical drop, on the other a near vertical cliff. If I strain my neck just so, I can see the corn rows hundreds of feet bellow. However going over a cliff is only one of my concerns right now. We are in the back woods of Guatemala. When I say backwoods, I mean backwoods. We are on our way to Honduras, to visit Copan, the ancient Mayan runes. Our tour guide had said that the quickest way to Honduras would be to take this road over the mountain. Ha. Road. More like a muddy path through some of the pretties, yet unseen parts off Guatemala. There is definitely a reason it is unseen. We hardly notice the beauty of the mountain scenery. What we do notice is the police car escorting us to make sure we make it over just fine. But as mother so helpfully pointed out, not all police in Guatemala are good guys. “These guys could be just prodding us out in the middle of nowhere so they can rob us,” said mom with a laugh. No one else was able to see the humor in that. “You know this is just like that scene on Romancing the Stone.” Thanks mom. That’s exactly what I need to hear right now. Romancing the stone, the movie where the main character, novelist Joan Wilder, gets a phone call that her sister is being held hostage in Columbia. So this big city girl [with her high heals on of course] sets out to find her sister. She gets lost, robbed, and has many other incredible adventures in the jungles of South America. Right now, being like Joan Wilder doesn’t sound like to much fun

I actually do like taking vacations off the beaten path. Like our Guatemala trip, it can be scary at times, but I think it’s quite rewarding. However I know many people who aren’t so adventurous. They have there one vacation spot and they go to that spot every vacation. This sounds boring to me, but to others, this is what they are familiar with, and are thus comfortable with. Like me you might ask, “But are these people really having fun on their trip?” I actually believe they are. Maybe some of the kids would like something a bit more adventurous, but the parents [the ones who have final say on where the family goes for the vacation] are perfectly fine with the old and well known.
When I say that I am the type of person who likes off the beaten trail adventures, that doesn’t mean that I don’t like “normal” vacations. Normal vacations are more relaxing than off the beaten trail ones. Everything is presented to you in a package. No deciding what to do and what not to do. No wondering what will give you the best experience, everything is given to you. I don’t think every vacation needs to be a wild Joan Wilder traipsing through the jungle experience.

It’s amazing how we live our lives in comparison to media. Part of our every day vocabulary consists of quoting movies. I definitely agree with the author that when we view something famous, we judge our experience against what we had known or scene about the place beforehand. I believe this might tie into the essay, In Plato’s Cave, a little. We take photos of everything to try and convince ourselves that what we are seeing is as good as what others have scene. However we can take this a step back. When read a book before seeing the movie, we will almost always dislike the movie. Why? Because it didn’t meat our expectations. We had envisioned the main character as being blond and blue eyed instead of having hazel eyes and red hair as depicted in the movie. You see it is not just media that “runes” things for us. Anything can be ruined when we make expectations of it.
So is it bad to have expectations? Certainly not. Life as we know it would not exist without expectations. When you go to the restaurant you have expectations of what your service should be like. Parents have expectations of their children. Everyone has expectations of who they want to date. Walker Percy seams to look down on expectation, but in fact there is a bright side to them. Sometimes our reality can exceed our expectations. Maybe this happens more rarely then our expectations being let down, but that just makes the instances that are better than our expectations even more rewarding.

In platos cave

Trevor Gustafson’s response to
In Plato’s Cave by Susan Sontag

I agree yet disagree with Susan Sontag. Photos can be an accurate or an inaccurate depictions of truth. However I do not believe that photos in themselves are a truth of there own. When I say that a photograph is not a truth of its own, I mean that it is not a truth of the item being photographed. It is a truth of itself. That photograph is lying on my table is a truth, but IT is not the table that was being photographed.
With photographs we can have an accurate view of things. Policemen have used them for years to convict criminals. They are accepted as evidence in the court of law. Sometimes a photo can catch a thief in the act of robbery. Sometimes it can prove that the suspect had contact with the victim. Investigators take hundreds of photos at the scene of a murder investigation. They take pictures from every angle and of everything. Photos taken rightly by the hand of a professional can be a very accurate depiction of truth, even the courts agree on this.
Sometimes photographs can inaccurately depict reality. A photographer can choice to make the object he is shooting appear brighter than it is by making the shutter speed slower thus allowing more light in. In this way he can make a scene that would almost disappear into the night’s shadows, visible. A photographer can also choose to make things appear larger than they really are.
Photographs cannot fill in other parts of our memory. For a while a picture of grandma may bring back memories of the deceased grandmother. The picture may remind a person of conversations with grandma, the way grandma spoke, and the even the way Grandma smelt. But after a while, as the person’s memory gets filled with other information, looking at the picture will not bring back the same memories. Had the picture changed? Not at all. You see it was not the picture that was creating these memories, it was the brain.
Sometimes we can look at photographs so much that our brain imagines we were there. We see that picture of ourselves at the family get-together when we were two and we think we can remember the situation. We think we can hear what people are saying, the smells in the room, and even the things that went on before and after the situation. Quit often these “memories” are wrong. Yes we were there, but our brain can’t recall information from that far back. So our brain pretends it knows [don’t laugh at poor Mr. Brain. We all pretend we know stuff we don’t to try and impress others.] The brain makes up information, and we accept it as the truth, even though that may not be an accurate depiction of what really happened.
So we know that photographs are sometimes accurate sometimes not. Sometimes they bring back memories, other times our brain creates inaccurate memories from them. Does an inaccurate photo or an inaccurate memory make the photo a new reality? A new truth? Absolutely not. Though men used to think that the earth was flat, that didn’t mean that it was. Though people in Plato’s cave thought there world consisted of shapes dancing around on the wall, truth is that those shapes were formed by people and a fire behind them.
The author says that photography can’t explain anything. She said that photographs are just like fiction. That is a major exaggeration. Photos can explain a lot. They can explain why dad was never able to get a date during high school. They can explain who robbed the bank. Some of them can be misleading, but that doesn’t mean that all of them should be discarded. Some people can be misleading. They can lie to us and steer us in the wrong directions. But that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t trust anyone. Likewise we shouldn’t discard photographs as useless.
Many times we are given false ideas or beliefs. This doesn’t mean that all our ideas are false. I’m convinced that there is something that I am convinced of that is false. Does that mean I shouldn’t believe in anything? Should I say we can’t know anything? If one person says that he saw the suspect with the victim on the night of the murder yet another witness says he say the witness 200 miles away on same night, can they both be right? No they can’t. You see there is only one truth. It can’t be made up. There can’t be two of them. The only way truth can be changed is with action. If I cut three inches off of the table legs, the truth is that that table will be three inches shorter. However, there is never more than one truth.

Disney World

Trevor Gustafson
A reading response to Disney World

Susan Willis is the type of person who is willing to disregard facts in order to make a point. She leaves behind logic in place of ranting. The Cambridge dictionary defines ranting as: a long, angry and confused speech. This would definitely describe Susan Willis’s Disney World.
First off, Susan Willis leaves out many necessary examples. She talks about how awful it is that there is no spontaneity at Disney world, but gives extremely few examples of what spontaneity should look like. I would definitely have liked to have known what the author thinks spontaneity is. Another writing sin the author makes is to stretch the truth to the point of practically lying. One of her many truth stretchers was when she claimed that people only save picture perfect photos. She says they delete the ones of the child’s ice cream covered face. I don’t think anyone would do that. There are plenty of pictures I have kept of an item which may not have been the main attraction of the trip, but was definitely a picture we would look back on in years and laugh at. When my cousin-in-law had her first baby, Meadow, they took lots of cute naked pictures of Meadow crawling around. These were far from picture perfect moments. In years to come Meadow will feel like chocking her parents for taking those photos, yet they will be a fun reminder to mom and dad of the times with the baby.
The third writing sin that Susan Willis commits is an offbeat, out of place, and totally unnecessary mention of politics. It seams that she hates Bush and Reagan enough to somehow push criticism of them into her essay. Why would you want to offend half of your readers over a point that practically doesn’t fit into your essay? The author’s last and possibly greatest sin is her lack of knowledge about what she is really talking about. Is it her dislike for conformity, or her hatred of corporations? She attempts to tie these things together, but fails miserably. Her off the wall mentioning’s of politics and corporations tells me that maybe she should have written about one or the other of these things instead of trying to bring them into an essay on Disney World.
Why is ranting a writing sin? It is the lack of coherent argument. I would say that Disney World is supposed to be a persuasive paper. What is the purpose of a persuasive paper? It is obviously to persuade [wow imagine that]. The Webster’s Standard Dictionary’s definition of persuade is: to convince by reason... Now if we abandon reason, persuasion becomes much harder, even impossible. When we rant, we quite often skip over necessary facts, and stretch truth to fit our means. In doing this, we loose our credibility with our readers.
As I contemplate my distain for this essay, I am convicted to analyze myself. Am I any different than Susan Willis? Do I rant and rave in place of coherent factual writing? Do I leave out necessary examples? Do I stretch the truth and even lie to make a point? I know that lying is wrong, but does my brain say that lying in an essay is okay? Does the outcome of proving a point justify the means? I know that it doesn’t, but do I practice this knowledge? Do I through in off beat topics such as politics and religion where they don’t belong? Am I sure that my topic is the one that I am really interested in?
I realize that in this reading response I have most definitely ranted. What an incredible hypocrite I am, ranting about disliking ranting. Is all my writing this way? I certainly hope not, but this essay has warned me against the dangers of ranting. Isn’t it amazing how you can learn from something you hate? If you can analyze the things you hate, you can then analyze yourself and discover that many of the things you despise are true of yourself. Now that I realize how easy it is to rant, I can be careful not to rant in my future writings.

Final draft

Following My Dream
Trevor Gustafson
English 101c


I sit here all alone on a park bench on this chilly, November day with the bitter northeasterly wind biting at my face. Normally I might have noticed the pealing green paint on the bench, the lady from two apartments down out briskly walking her handsomely trimmed golden retriever, and the children playing together on the playground. However today I just sit here thinking back on the last seven and a half years. What had gone wrong? Had I not studied enough? Is there something wrong with me? Should I try again, or just give up? The last nearly third of my life I have spent studying for nothing. I remember nights studying until, exhausted, I fell asleep at my desk. I remember not being able to go on outings because I had assignments to finish. Now what am I to do? Should I study for another occupation? Do I just settle for a blue collar job? Life seems so unfair. Then I hear a sound. It is not the sound of children playing or of dogs barking. No. This is a different sound, one all too familiar. It is the bringer of fear into my tired, weary bones. With a start I wake, then lazily roll over and hit the snooze button.

Like every other person on the planet, I have a dream. My dream is to become an architect. Having recognized this dream, my parents encourage me to pursue it. However, many goliath sized obstacles lie in the way of becoming a licensed architect. Will I be able to conquer these giant sized obstacles, or will I waste precious years of my life chasing after the wind? This is a question I ask myself day and night.
For as long as I can remember, architecture has fascinated me. I am enthralled by the concept of having an enormous idea in my head, drawing it, and having it built. That is not to say the job of an architect is an easy one, but to me it seems extremely gratifying. Do I get this passion from a parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, or a family friend? No person I know is an architect. In fact, my parents have unknowingly somewhat aggravated my architectural passions. My parents are extremely practical people; we have dreadfully little design elements in our home. Everything must have a “purpose.” While I love my parents incredibly, I believe architecture should be artistic. It seems no human has influence my architectural interests.
My love of building does not in any way keep me tucked inside all day. I am an outdoors person. Hiking, backpacking, and biking are some of my favorite activities. I believe buildings should showcase pieces of nature. Cedar, stone, and bamboo, are the best building materials in the world. What I do not love, and down right despise, is the elements. There is nothing more irritating than having to be outside, getting soaked in the rain. Buildings were initially built for the sole purpose of keeping out the elements. Maybe I love architecture because I dislike the elements so much. Maybe it is the art form I love. Maybe I love architecture because I love creating things. Maybe, but where do my desires truly come from?
My desires are placed there by God. God uses some of them to show me what he wants me to do. My highest concern throughout this decision making process is to follow God’s will.
God has given me many gifts, one of which is architecture. The gifts God has given me should be used wisely. I don’t want to waste a gift, but since I have been given many gifts, which ones should I utilize in my career? What about my gift of music? I have played the violin for over ten years. Does God want me to bless others through a career as a musician, or with the gift of architecture? Can I use my gifts besides in a career form? I enjoy playing old-time music at senior homes with my band. Should I utilize my musical gifts in this way, or as a career? I wish I knew.
There are plenty of other occupations with similar qualities as architecture. Manufacturing, for example, designs and sees things built, but I am not attracted to manufacturing. For some reason I am attracted to buildings. I honestly have no idea why. My parents dread when we drive by an interesting building because I always glue my face to the window to see out, thus leaving breathe prints on the window. Whenever I walk into a building and notice a floor plan on the wall, I am drawn like a magnate to the plan. Those who are with me think I belong in a mental institute; I mean who actually reads those building maps? I do. I don’t know why. I just do. Once, while visiting a friend in the hospital, I became fascinated by the hospital’s architecture. What normal person notices the architecture in a hospital? I do. Or how about when I go to a museum and am more fascinated by the way the walls meet the ceiling than I am with the exhibits. Sometimes my interests seem extremely weird, even to me.
When I consider career choices, money is not a big deciding factor for me. Sure I want a sweet car, the grandest house on the block, and a dream vacation every summer to Hawaii just like every other American, but being at a job where I belong is more important to me than money. When I am on my death bed, will I remember the car I bought in 2013? I think it was a mustang. Or was it a minivan? It won’t matter. What will matter is how I have left this world. Is it a better or a worse place? Have I used my gifts wisely or poorly? At least to me, happiness is not obtained through a large pay check, but rather through serving others in ways I am gifted.
A gift seldom comes completely naturally. It must first be taught and challenged before it can be utilized. The road to learning how to properly use my gift of architecture is not an easy one. I must attend seven and a half years of college, but I will not know until part way through my schooling whether or not I will be able to finish my degree. Then, if I am able to complete my seemingly endless years at college, I must find a place to apprentice at. After serving a minimum of two years there, I must study for, and then take a gruelingly long test to become a licensed architect. However, it is not just one test for the entire nation. I must take a different test for every state I wish to be licensed in. These are just the major challenges I am aware of on my path of learning. I shiver to think of what small obstacles are lying, waiting to ensnare me.
Every time I start to fear about my future career I say to myself, “So self, what else could you do as an occupation besides architecture?” Every answer self has given me, I have rejected. I imagine going to work day after day after day and wondering what if? What if I had overcome my fears? What if I had gone to school and gotten my degree? What if someone had hired me and I could be fulfilling my dream of designing buildings right now? What if? However as many times as I say this, something, somewhere deep in my stomach says, “But what if by the time you finish school, you decide you don’t want to be an architect? What if no one will hire you?” Thus the inward battle rages on.
Fear stems from a loss of certainty about the future. The future is unclear; anything could happen. I want to be in charge of everything and I want to know what will happen. The cold truth of life is I will never know what tomorrow may bring. I know God is in control of whatever happens, but I feel as if studying for nothing is wasted time. All those years could have been spent doing something instead of stressing myself over learning information never to be used again.
When confronted with a life changing choice, I should not try to make a decision without consulting others. My parents have more life experience than me and are thus able to give helpful and wise advice. I know they have my best interest in mind and they will always love me. They have given me lots of wise counsel about priorities in life. Is money or fulfillment better? God’s will or mine?
Another person I have consulted is local architect, Michael Smith, who works at Zervus Group architects. I asked him about what all is involved in becoming an architect. Now I might have discovered a major part of architecture I dislike, or downright despise. Michael may have been able to tell me of some other occupation I should pursue. However talking with him actually gave the opposite result; it encouraged me towards become an architect. Michael also gave me advice on what schools firms look at to hire from. If I had not sought advice, I might have ended up going to a bad school.
So what am I going to do? On the one hand, all the clues seem to be pointing to becoming an architect, but on the other hand, could my fears be for a reason? I don’t want to waste so much of my life pursuing a dream only to see it fade into the black abyss of impossibility. What if I can’t get into the school? What If I can’t pass the licensing exam? What if I can’t get hired? As the time approaches to when I must make my decision whether I am going to transfer to the Washington State University’s school of architecture or not, I am sure of one thing: God will provide.

A rock upon which to stand

Following My Dream
Trevor Gustafson


I sit here all alone on a park bench on this chilly, November day with the bitter northeasterly wind biting at my face. Normally I would have noticed the pealing green paint on the bench, the lady from two apartments down out briskly walking her handsomely trimmed golden retriever, and the children playing together on the playground. However today I just sit here thinking back on the last seven and a half years. What had gone wrong? Had I not studied enough? Is there something wrong with me? Should I try again, or just give up? The last nearly third of my life I have spent studying for nothing. I remember nights where I would study until, exhausted, I fell asleep at my desk. I remember the times I wasn’t able to go on outings because I had assignments to finish. Now what am I going to do? Should I study for another occupation? Do I just settle for a blue collar job? Life seams so unfair. Then I hear a sound. It is not the sound of children playing or of dogs barking. No. This is a different sound, one all too familiar. It is the sound that brings fear into my tired, weary bones. With start I wake, then lazily roll over and hit the snooze button.

Like every other person on the planet, I have a dream. My dream is to become an architect. Having recognized this dream, my parents have encouraged me to pursue it. However there are many obstacles that lie in the way of becoming a licensed architect. Will I be able to conquer those obstacles, or will I waste precious years of my life chasing after an unachievable dream? This is a question I ask my self day and night.
Architecture fascinates me. I am enthralled by the concept of having an enormous idea in my head, drawing it, and having it built. That is not to say that the job of an architect is easy, but to me it seams very gratifying. Do I get this love from my parents Grandparent Aunts Uncles, or a family friend? No person that I know is an architect, so it seams to me that no human has influence my architectural interests. In fact, my parents have unknowingly somewhat aggravated them. My parents are extremely practical people; we have very little in our house that is for design. Everything must have a “purpose.” While I love my parents very much, I believe architecture should be artistic.
There are plenty of other jobs with similar qualities as architecture. Manufacturing for example, designs and sees things built, but I am not attracted to manufacturing. For some reason I am attracted to buildings. I honestly have no idea why. My parents dread when we drive by an interesting building because I always glue my face to the window, leaving breathe prints. Whenever I walk into a building and notice a floor plan on the wall, I am drawn like a magnate to the plan. Those who are with me think that I belong in a mental institute; I mean who actually reads those building maps? I do. I don’t know why. I just do. My parents tell me that when I was young, and was visiting a friend in the hospital, I was fascinated by the hospital’s architecture. What normal person would care to notice the architecture in a hospital? I would. Or how about when I go to a museum and am more fascinated by the way the walls meet up with the ceiling than I am with the exhibits. Sometimes my interests seem really weird, even to me.
My love of building does not in any way keep me tucked inside all day. I am an outdoors person. Hiking, backpacking, and biking are some of my favorite activities. I believe buildings should showcase pieces of nature. Cedar, stone, and bamboo, are the best building materials in the world. What I do not love, and down right despise, is the elements. There is nothing more irritating to me than having to be outside, getting soaked in the rain. Buildings were initially built for the sole purpose of keeping out the elements. Maybe I love architecture because I dislike the elements so much. Maybe I love architecture because I love creating things. Maybe I love architecture because I love that type of art form. Maybe, but where do my desires really come from?
I personally believe that my desires are placed there by God. God sometimes uses them to show me what he wants me to do. My highest concern throughout this decision making process is to follow God’s will.
God has given me many gifts, one of which I believe is architecture. The gifts God has given me should be used wisely. I don’t want to waste a gift, but since there are many gifts that I have been given, which ones should I utilize in my career? What about my gift of music? I have played the violin for more than ten years. Does God want me to bless people through a career as a musician? Or does he want me to bless people with the gift of architecture? Can I use my gifts besides in a career form? Right now I am in a band that plays old time music at senior homes. Should I utilize my musical gifts in this way, or as a career? I wish I knew.
When I consider career choices, money is not a big issue for me. Sure I want a sweet car, the grandest house on the block, and a dream vacation every summer to Hawaii just like every other American, but I feel that being at a job where I belong is more important than money. When I am on my death bed, will I remember that car I bought in 2013? Now was that a Porche or a mustang? It really won’t matter. What will matter is what I have left the world. Is it a better or a worse place? Have I used my gifts wisely or poorly? At least to me, happiness is not obtained through a large pay check, but rather through serving others in ways I know I am gifted.
A gift seldom comes completely naturally to a person. The person must first be taught and challenged before they can know how to utilize their gifts. I must attend seven and a half years of college to be taught how to use my gift of architecture. I will not know until part way through my schooling whether or not I will be ale to continue my schooling. Then, once I have completed my seemingly endless years at college, I must find a place to apprentice at. After serving a minimum of two years there, I must study for, then take a gruelingly long test to become a licensed architect. However it’s not just one test for the entire nation. No. I must take a different test for every state that I wish to be licensed in. These are just the major challenges on my path of learning that I am aware of. I shiver to think of what small obstacles are lying, waiting to ensnare me.
Every time I start to fear about my future career I say to myself, “so self, what else could I do as an occupation besides architecture?” However every answer that self has given me, I have rejected. Every day at that job I would wonder what if? What if I had overcome my fears? What if I had gone to school and gotten my degree? What if someone had hired me and I could be fulfilling my dreams of designing buildings right now? What if? However as many times as I say this, something, somewhere in my stomach says, “But what if by the time you finish school you decide you don’t want to be an architect. What if no one will hire you?” Thus the inward battle rages on.
Fear stems from a loss of certainty about the future. The future is unclear; anything could happen. I want to be in charge of everything and I want to know what will happen. The cold truth of life is that I will never know what tomorrow may bring. I know that God is in control of whatever happens, but I feel like a valuable part of my life would be wasted if I were to go to school and yet not make it as an architect. All those years I could have been doing something else instead of stressing myself over learning information that I would never use again.
When confronted with a life changing choice, it would be foolish of me to try to make a decision without consulting others. There are many people that are experienced and thus qualified to give advice. Two of those people who I have consulted are my parents. They are older and wiser than me, and while I don’t always agree one-hundred percent with them, I know they have my best interest in mind. I also know that they will always love me. My parents have given me lots of wise counsel about priorities in life. Is money or fulfillment better? God’s will or mine?
Another person I have consulted is local architect, Michael Smith, who works at Zervus Group architects. I asked him about what all was involved in becoming an architect. Now maybe I might have discovered that there was some major part of being an architect that I would dislike, or downright despise. Michael may have been able to tell me some other similar occupation that would not entail this despised task. That was not the case, however. Talking with him actually gave me encouragement to become an architect. He also told me what schools firms look at to hire from. If I had not sought advice, I might have ended up going to a bad school.
So what am I going to do? On the one hand, all the clues seem to be pointing to becoming an architect, but on the other hand, could my fears be for a reason? I don’t want to waste so much of my life pursuing a dream only to see it fade into the black abyss of impossibility. What if I can’t get into the school? What If I can’t pass the licensing exam. What if I can’t get hired? As the time approaches to when I must make my decide whether I am going to transfer to the Washington State University’s school of architecture or not, I am sure of one thing: God will provide.

still following my dreams

Following My Dreams
By Trevor Gustafson

From the youngest baby, crying for attention, to the oldest senior, sitting lonely in a nursing home. From the nun locked away in a convent in the coldest section of Siberia, to the glamorous pop star on TV. From the country redneck, to the city hillbilly. All these have one thing in common: they have dreams, aspirations and longing. I, too, have dreams, though sometimes I find that it is not always easy to follow them. The road that leads to the dream’s completion is quite blurry, and what I see appears to be treacherous. Is it worth it to follow a dream?

My dream is to become an architect and design buildings that will be both practical to the user, and pleasing to the eye of the beholder. I am fascinated by the concept of being able to have an enormous idea in my head, draw it, and have it built. That is not to say that the job of an architect is easy, but in my mind it seams very gratifying. Do I get this love from my parents? Grandparent? Aunts, Uncles? No relative that I know of has been an architect so it seams to me that no human influence has persuaded my architect interests. In fact, my parents have unknowingly somewhat aggravated my architectural desires. My parents are extremely practical people; we have very little in our house that is for design. Everything must have a “purpose.” While I love my parents very much, I believe architecture should be artistic.

You might say, “But there are plenty of other jobs were you might design something and see it built. How about manufacturing?” Yes, there are many jobs that design and build things, but somehow, I am attracted to buildings. I honestly have no idea why. My parents dread when we drive by an interesting building because I always press my face to the window and leave breathe prints. Whenever I walk into a building and notice a floor plan on the wall, I will instantly go over and examine the plan. Those who are with me think that I belong in a mental institute; I mean who actually reads those building maps? I do. I don’t really know why. I just do. My parents tell me that when I was young, and was visiting a friend in the hospital, I was fascinated by the architecture at the hospital. What normal person would care to notice the architecture in a hospital? I would. Or how about when I go to a museum and am more fascinated by the way the walls meet up with the ceiling than I am with the exhibits. Sometimes my interests seem really weird, even to me.

Why do I love buildings? Am I the type of person who spends all his time inside? Absolutely not. Hiking, backpacking, and biking are some of my favorite activities. I love buildings that showcase pieces of nature. Cedar, stone, bamboo, these are the best building materials in the world. What I do not love is the elements. There is nothing more irritating to me than having to be outside, getting soaked in the rain. Maybe my love of architecture stems from my hatred of the elements. Buildings were initially built for the sole purpose of keeping out the elements. Maybe I love architecture because I dislike the elements so much. Maybe I love architecture because I love creating things. Maybe I love architecture because I love that type of art form. I don’t really know.

I consider doing another occupation day after day after day and I know that I would soon realize that I would never be fully satisfied where I was unless I was designing buildings. If I were to become a CEO of a company, I might enjoy some aspects of the job, but I would be more interested in giving the company a bigger or more beautiful building than I would be in anything else.. To me, taking any other career would be stupid. Why should I always yearn to be an architect but never fulfill my dream?

Where do my dreams come from? They are certainly not completely from my parents. Things such as hating the elements may have influenced me, but I personally believe that my desires are placed there by God. I believe that God sometimes uses them to show me what he wants me to do. My highest concern throughout this decision making process is to follow God’s will.

God has given me many gifts. One of those I believe is the gift of architecture. I should use the gifts that God has given me. I don’t want to waste a gift, but since there are many gifts, which ones should I utilize in my career? What about my gift of music? I have played the violin for more than ten years. Does God want me to bless people through music as a career? Or does he want me to bless people with the gift of architecture? Can I use my gifts besides in a career form? I wish I knew.

Now architecture is not a wealthy business. In fact, for the amount of school required, the pay is down right low. Why is money not an issue for me? Why wouldn’t I want a sweet car, the grandest house on the block, and a dream vacation every summer to Hawaii? To be honest, I do want all those things, but I feel that being at a job where I belong is more important than the money. When I am on my death bed, will I remember that car I bought in 2013? Now was that a Porche or a mustang? It really won’t matter. What will matter is what I have left the world. Have I left it a better or a worse place? Have I used my gifts wisely or poorly? At least to me, happiness is not obtained through a pay check, but rather through serving others in ways I know I am gifted at.

I know I have a defendant desire to be an architect, but what about the challenges of becoming an architect? What must I do to obtain this desire? When I look at becoming an architect, I see a very difficult road ahead of me. I must attend seven and a half years of college. Having been home schooled all my life, this seams like a terribly daunting feet to accomplish. Once I transfer to a four year college, I will not know until my second year there whether or not I am going to be accepted into the program so that I can continue at the school. Then, once I have completed my seemingly endless years at college, I must find a place to apprentice at. After I have served a minimum of two years there, I must study for, then take a gruelingly long test to become a licensed architect. However it’s not just one test for the entire nation. No, I must take a different test for every state that I wish to be licensed in. These are just the major challenges that I am aware of. I shiver to think of what small obstacles are lying, waiting for me.

Has being home schooled increased my fears? Possibly. I have been at home, around my loving family for most of the days of my life. The prospect of only seeing them a couple times a year seams heart wrenching. But isn’t this something that every teen who has a close relationship with his family, home schooled or public, encounters? I think it is. I think that it may be more difficult for a home schooled student, but I know it shall be a growing experience for me. However growth means challenges. Challenges mean uncertainty. Uncertainty leads to fear.
Every time I start to fear about my future career I say to myself, “so self, what else could I do as an occupation besides architecture?” Every single answer that self has given me, I have rejected. I consider doing that job day after day after day and I think I would soon realize that I would never be fully satisfied where I was unless I was doing architecture. I would always wonder what if? What if I had overcome my fears? What if I had gone to school and gotten my degree? What if someone had hired me and I could be fulfilling my dreams of designing buildings right now? What if? But as many times as I say this, something, somewhere in my stomach says, “But what if by the time you finish school you decide you don’t want to be an architect. What if no one will hire you?” And so the inward battle rages on.

Why do I fear so much? Might it have something to do with a loss of certainty about my future? Quite possibly. I know that I cannot see what will happen in the future. I want to be in charge of everything. I want to know what will happen. The cold truth of life is that I will never know what tomorrow may bring. I know that God is in control of whatever happens, but I feel like part of my life would be wasted if I were to go to school and yet not make it as an architect. All those years I could have been doing something else instead of stressing myself over learning information that I would never use again.

When confronted with a choice, do I try to figure it out all on my own? Of course not. There are many people that are experienced and thus qualified to give advice. Two of those people who I consult would be my parents. They are older and wiser than me, and while I don’t always agree one-hundred percent with them, I know they have my best interest in mind. Plus I know that they will always love me. My parents have given me lots of wise counsel about priorities in life. Is money or fulfillment better? God’s will or mine?

Another person I have talked with is local architect, Michael smith, who works at Zervus Group architects. I asked him about what all was involved in becoming an architect. Now maybe I might have discovered that there was some major part of being an architect that I would dislike, or downright despise. Michael may have been able to tell me some other similar occupation that would not entail this despised task. That was not the case, however. Talking with him actually gave me encouragement to becoming an architect. I was able to ask him about what school I should go to, and what I would expect there.

Why do I talk to others? Because they have more experience than me. Not that they necessarily have a higher I.Q. level per say, but because they have more life experience. Instead of looking for a school that has the best parties, maybe I should look for one that Michael said firms would look at to hire from. Talking to Michael relieved some of my fears. He was able to tell me what to expect at college. If I had not sought advice, I might have ended up going to a bad school.

So what am I going to do? On the one hand, all the clues seem to be pointing to becoming an architect, but on the other hand, could my fears be for a reason? I don’t want to waste so much of my life pursuing a dream that will be gone in five years. As the time approaches to when I must make my decision on whether I am going to transfer to the Washington State University’s school of architecture or not, I am sure of one thing: God will provide.

Dreams vs. Fear - second draft

Following My Dreams
By Trevor Gustafson

From the youngest baby, crying for attention, to the oldest senior, sitting lonely in a nursing home. From the nun locked away in a convent in the coldest section of Siberia, to the glamorous pop star on TV. From the country redneck, to the city hillbilly. All these have one thing in common: they have dreams, aspirations and longing. I, too, have dreams, though sometimes I find that it is not always easy to follow them. The road that leads to the completed dream is quite blurry, and what I see appears to be treacherous. Is it worth it to follow a dream?

My dream is to become an architect and design buildings that will be both practical to the user, and pleasing to the eye of the beholder. I am fascinated by the concept of being able to have an enormous idea in my head, draw it, and have it built. That is not to say that the job of an architect is easy, but in my mind it seams very gratifying. Do I get this love from my parents? Grandparent? Aunts, Uncles? No relative that I know of has been an architect so it seams to me that no human influence has persuaded me to be an architect. In fact, my parents have unknowingly somewhat aggravated my architectural desires. My parents are extremely practical people; we have very little in our house that is for design. Everything must have a “purpose.” While I believe architecture must be foremost functional, I also believe it should be artistic.

You might say, “But there are plenty of other jobs were you might design something and see it built. How about manufacturing?” Yes, there are many jobs that design and build things, but somehow, I am attracted to buildings. I have no idea why. When I see a cool building as I drive by, I automatically press my nose to the window to see. When I walk into a building and notice a floor plan on the wall, I will instantly go over and memorize the plan. Those who are with me think that I belong in a mental institute; I mean who actually reads those building maps? I do. I don’t really know why. I just do. My parents tell me that when I was young, and I was visiting a friend in the hospital, I was fascinated by the architecture at the hospital. What normal person would care to notice the architecture in a hospital? Or how about when I go to a museum and am more fascinated by the way the walls meet up with the ceiling than I am with the exhibits. Sometimes my desires seam really weird.

Why do I love buildings? Am I the type of person who spends all his time inside? Most definitely not. I love being outside, hiking, backpacking, biking. I love buildings that showcase pieces of nature. What I do not love is the elements. While looking at rain doesn’t necessarily get me down, there is nothing more irritating to me than having to be outside, getting soaked in the rain. Maybe my love of architecture stems from my hatred of the elements. Buildings were initially built for the sole purpose of keeping out the elements. Maybe I love architecture because I dislike the elements so much. Maybe I love architecture because I love creating things. Maybe I love architecture because I love that type of art form. I don’t really know.

I consider doing another occupation day after day after day and I think I would realize that I would never be fully satisfied where I was unless I was designing buildings. If I were to become a CEO of a company, which is probably my second favorite prospective career choice, I might enjoy some aspects of the job, but I would be more interested in giving the company a bigger or more beautiful building. To me, taking any other career would be stupid. Why should I always be wanting to be an architect but never fulfilling my dream?

Where do my dreams come from? They are certainly not all from my parents. Things such as hating the elements may have influenced me, but I personally believe that my desires are placed there by God. I believe that God sometimes uses them to show me what he wants me to do. Desires are not all bad. Sometimes they are God’s leading. My highest concern throughout my decision making process is to follow God’s will.

God has given me gifts. One of those I believe is the gift of architecture. I should use the gift that God has given me. I don’t want to waste a gift, but there are other gifts that God has given me besides architecture. Take Music, for example. Does God want me to bless people through music as a career? Or does he want me to bless people with the gift of architecture? I wish I knew.

Now architecture is not a wealthy business. In fact, for the amount of school required, the pay is down right low. Why is money not an issue for me? Why wouldn’t I want a cool car, the biggest house on the block, and a dream vacation every year to Hawaii? To be honest, I do want all those things, but I feel that being at a job where I belong is more important than the money. When I am on my death bed, will I remember that car I bought in 2013? Now was that a Porche or a mustang? It really won’t matter. What will matter is what I have left the world. Have I left it a better or a worse place? Have I used my gifts wisely or poorly? At least to me, happiness is not obtained through a pay check, but rather through serving others in ways I know I am gifted at. It is truly more blessed to give than to receive.

What about the challenges of becoming an architect? What must I do to obtain this desire of becoming an architect? When I look at becoming an architect, I see a very difficult road ahead of me. I must attend seven and a half years of college. Having been home schooled all my life, this seams like a terribly daunting feet to accomplish. Once I transfer to a four year college, I will not know until my second year there whether or not I am going to be accepted into the program so that I can continue at the school. Then, once I have completed my seemingly endless years at college, I must find a place to apprentice at. After I have served a minimum of two years there, I must study for, and then take a gruelingly long test to become a licensed architect. But it’s not just one test for the entire nation. No, I must take a different test for every state that I wish to be licensed in. These are just the major things that I am aware of. I shiver to think of what small obstacles are lying, waiting for me.

Has being home schooled increased my fears? Possibly. I have been at home, around my loving family for most of the days of my life. The prospect of only seeing them a couple times a year seams heart wrenching. But isn’t this something that every teen who has a close relationship with his family, home schooled or public, encounters? I think it is. I think that it may be more difficult for a home schooled student, but I know it shall be a growing experience for me. However growth means challenges. Challenges mean uncertainty. Uncertainty leads to fear.

Every time I start to fear about my future career I say to myself, “so self, what else could I do as an occupation besides architecture?” Every single answer that self has given me, I have rejected. I consider doing that job day after day after day and I think I would soon realize that I would never be fully satisfied where I was unless I was doing architecture. I would always wonder what if? What if I had overcome my fears? What if I had gone to school and gotten my degree? What if someone had hired me and I could be fulfilling my dreams of designing buildings right now? What if? But as many times as I say this, something, somewhere in my stomach says, “But what if by the time you finish school you decide you don’t want to be an architect. What if no one will hire you?” And so the inward battle rages on.

Why do I fear so much? Might it have something to do with a loss of certainty about my future? Quite possibly. I know that I cannot see what will happen in the future. I want to be in charge of everything. I want to know what will happen. The cold truth of life is that I will never know what tomorrow may bring. I know that God is in control of whatever happens, but I feel like part of my life would be wasted if I were to go to school and yet not make it as an architect.

When confronted with a choice, do I try to figure it out all on my own? Of course not. There are many people that are experienced and thus qualified to give advice. Two of those people who I consult would be my parents. They are older and wiser than me, and while I don’t always agree one-hundred percent with them, I know they have my best interest in mind. Plus I know that they will always love me. My parents have given me lots of wise counsel about priorities in life. Is money or fulfillment better? God’s will or mine?

Another person I have contacted is local architect, Michael smith, who works at Zervus Group architects. I asked him about what all was involved in becoming an architect. Now maybe I might have discovered that there was some major part of being an architect that I would dislike, or downright despise. Michael may have been able to tell me some other similar occupation that would not entail this despised task. That was not the case, however. Talking with him actually gave me encouragement towards becoming an architect. I was able to ask him about what school I should go to, and what I would expect there.

Why do I talk to others? Because they have more experience than me. Not that they necessarily have a higher I.Q. level per say, but because they have more life experience. Instead of looking for a school that has the best parties, maybe I should look for one that Michael said firms would look at to fire from. Talking to Michael relieved some of my fears. He was able to tell me what to expect at college. If I had not sought advice, I may have ended up going to a bad school.

So what am I going to do? On the one hand, all the clues seem to be pointing to become an architect, but on the other hand, could my fears be for a reason? I don’t want to waste so much of my life pursuing a dream that will be gone in five years. As the time approaches to when I must make my decision on whether I am going to transfer to the Washington State University’s school of architecture or not, I am sure of one thing: God will provide.

Following my dreams

Following my dreams
By Trevor Gustafson

Dreams. Aspirations. Longings. We all have them. While others might argue other wise I would say that even a nun locked away in a convent in Siberia has longings and desires. However we don’t always allow ourselves to follow our desires. At first it may sound ridiculous not to follow our dreams, but as we shall see, there are reasons that people don’t pursue their aspirations. Do we decide to be a programmer even though our parents want us to get a “respectable” job such as being a doctor? In my case, do I want to pursue a career in architecture even though it will mean seven and a half years of school and when I’m finished with that, relatively low pay? I think I do. Are our desires worth the hardship of abstaining them.

Who wouldn’t want to follow there dreams. Dreams are bubbling inside of us. They make us want to excel at what we love. They are the forth that drives us. If we don’t wish to do something we do it half heartedly. If we dislike a school assignment, we will not put much effort. Actually, if we don’t have a desire to do something we won’t do it at all. Even with the example of not doing a school assignment well, we still do the assignment. Why? Because We are realize that we want to succeed at school, and not flunk out of a class. Sometimes a desire can be as basic as wanting to avoid the wrath of our parents. A toddler may not realize this desire and thus disobey his authorities. You see, desires are what drive our every actions. The desire could be as basic as not wanting to fail a class. Or as complex as wanting to find a cure for cancer.

Unfortunately desires are not always easy to follow. Sometimes we might be afraid. What if my desire leads me down the wrong path? What if I can’t support myself with the career I choose? While you probably will want to choose something that will put be able to put the food on the table, don’t look down on having a simple life style. Just getting by. Unless your primary desire is to become the worlds first trillionare, happiness does not come from the size of the paycheck, but rather from your ability to be content with the work you are doing every day.

On maybe a more day to day level, are we afraid to follow a passion we have? What about in school. Are we willing to write a essay on a subject that we are passionate about even though we are afraid that the teacher might disagree with us and might even mark down our grade because of that? Do we let fear get in the way of our passions?

How about myself and facing the fear of becoming an architect. While my parents have made it clear that they will support whatever career endeavor I partake in, I still have many fears as to my future occupation. Will it pay enough to support a family? Will I be good at it. Will someone hire me? Will I do well in architecture school? Can I afford that much college? All of these are fears that are on my mind when I contemplate career. But every time I start to fear I say to myself, “so self, what else could I do as an occupation besides architecture.” And every single answer that self has given me, I have rejected. I consider doing that job day after day after day and I think I would realize that I would never be fully satisfied where I was unless I was doing architecture. I would always wonder what if? What if I had overcome my fears? What if I had gone to school and gotten my degree? What if someone had hired me and I could have been designing buildings right now? What if? Once I have this conversation with myself, and believe me I have this conversation a lot, practically everyday, I realize that no matter what obstacles I have to jump, I’ll jump them. No matter what hoops I have to go through, I go through then. No matter what length of endurance is needed I’ll find it. Just so I can follow my dream, and become and architect.

When faced with fears, I suggest doing what I do on a regular basis. Ask yourself, “what will happen if I don’t do this.” Will I always look back, wondering what would have happened if I had of done this. I think by the answer to that question you will know what to do.

There is another type of fear. One so big that it deserves it’s own paragraph [maybe even two or three] that is the fear of difficulty. What must I do to obtain this desire? When I look at becoming an architect, I see a very difficult road ahead of me. I must attend seven and a half years of college. Having been home schooled all my life this seams like a terribly daunting feet to accomplish. Once I transfer to a four year college, I will not know until my second year there whether or not I am going to be accepted into the program so I that I can continue at the school of architecture. Then, once I have completed my [seemingly endless] years at college, I must find a place to apprentiship at. After I have served a minimum of two years there, I must study for, then take a gruelingly long test to become a licensed architect. But it’s not just one test for the entire nation. No, I must take a different test for every state that I wish to be licensed in. Once I have jumped through all these hurdles, I must be content with a salary that will probably not allow for a large home, a nice car, and a vacation every summer to Hawaii. Am I willing to overcome all of this? Yes. I can simply not see myself being happy anywhere else.
Now, being a conservative, evangelical Christian, I desire to do God’s will in decisions in careers. Now I realize that this may not be relevant to many reading this, but since my faith is such a gigantic part of my life, and since wanting to do God’s will is the biggest deciding factor in my decision making in career fields, I decided that I probably should tackle this subject. I hope not to sound preachy, but simply to convey how much my religion and my God, Lord and Savior mean to me.

I personally believe that our desires are placed there by God. As a Christian, I so often think of desires as being worldly and evil, but sometimes we must sift through our desires, see which one are wrong for us, and see which ones God has placed there to give us guidance as to his will. To say that we think we should go into the ministry because we want to serve God is wrong thinking. God can use us in whatever occupation we are in.

Sometimes it is important to ask other’s advice about following your desires. For example, I asked an architect about what all was evolved in becoming an architect. Now maybe I might have discovered that there was some major part of being an architect that I would dislike, or downright despise. The architect may have been able to tell me some other similar occupation, that would not entail this despised task. You see, sometimes, our desires are built on false information. Sometiems it’s good to check with parent’s, teachers, and/or friends before you embark on the journey to pursue a major desire. I have some photography and it always amazes me how you can see a beautiful sceen and think that it would be just “picture Perfect” so you pull out the camera and snap away. Well you get home, develop the picture and find out that there was a tree right in the middle of the photograph. Had it not been there when you took the photo? Yes it most certainly had, but you hadn’t noticed it. Our friends, family and other influences are like the photo developing process. They can quit often, but not always, show us what is really there. [ask advice]
Following wrong desires. I shall call these desires wayward emotions. Is your desire really to stay out past your curfew on a school night, or is it to disobey your parents? Do you really want to Merry that person, or are you just angry that all your friends say the marriage will never work? Desires like this will pretty much always lead only to trouble.


Why does the subject of following my dreams interest me? It interests me because this is something extremely relevant to me. I feel think that people should take risks and dare to follow their dreams. I think they should be careful to discern a true dream and an emotional passion, but we should not be afraid to follow a dream.