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.