What did you want to be when you grew up? For most of us, we wanted to be many things before our current careers manifested- a singer, an actor, a firefighter, a dentist, an astronaut, or something else that called to our hearts. In sixth grade (the earliest I can remember wanting to be anything when I grew up), I wanted to be either an astronomer or a singer. Then, in ninth grade, when I fell in love with biology, I wanted to be a genetic engineer. Throughout my life, I’ve loved wildlife, animals, and environmentalism. My career path took me on a journey where I did get to conduct observational research in wildlife, work in zoos, and also work with genetically engineered mice in science labs, so some of those dreams were partially realized. However, it wasn’t until recently that I realized the hold that some of my old loves still had on me, after years of ignoring them.

When I say that I wanted to be an astronomer when I was young, I really mean that I was totally obsessed with space. I had and still have zero desire to be an astronaut or leave the planet (I have a fear of heights and Mission: Space at Walt Disney World was enough to almost give me a panic attack), but space itself was fascinating to me. Beautiful and awe-inspiring, it captured my attention and imagination like nothing else did back then. I was an avid reader and subscriber to Odyssey magazine, I did book reports on supernovas, and spent evenings gazing up at the stars. It was 1989, right before the launch of the Hubble Space Telescope, but those few images we did have and information we knew was enough to make my imagination run wild. I can’t imagine how much more enraptured I would have been had my 11-year-old self been able to see what incredible images we have access to now.

It’s been 35 years since I first had that dream of being an astronomer. For three years, that desire burned strongly, and as the years passed, I put the stars on the backburner of my life. I grew up, followed a new career path, then another, and then recently, on a day off from school, I decided to get my family tickets to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. At the end of the visit, we went to the planetarium. I hadn’t been to a planetarium since I was a child. As Neil deGrasse Tyson narrated the story of our Universe and dark matter theory, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Wonder. Magic. A re-sparking of a long-dormant flame within my heart. I had forgotten that love of astronomy was a part of my soul. It sounds silly to say or to type, but when I watched that show, it was like I remembered a part of who I am.

Why did I decide at age 13 that because I was no longer interested in astronomy as a career that it wasn’t worth my time or energy? Why do each of us decide to close off these parts of ourselves- these things that make us who we are? As I sat with that question, I began to ask myself more questions. How much time do we spend scrolling on social media, watching TV, or going down internet rabbit holes that we could instead spend embracing our childhood dreams and joys? Can we enjoy things as hobbies or fascinations without feeling like we need to turn something into a career? How can we embrace a sense of wonder and fascination in our every day lives by taking time each day to do the things we loved as children or young adults?

In my case, I have no desire to be an astronomer anymore, and to be honest, I wouldn’t have what it takes anyway. Physics is something I’ve struggled with since seventh grade, and I’m not driven by a need to fully explore the cosmos and discover new things. That doesn’t mean I can’t find ways to nurture the passion I do still have for the beauty of the universe. I checked out Astrophysics for People in a Hurry by Neil deGrasse Tyson from the local library and started reading it. I visited the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, VA to see the Space Shuttle Discovery. As a child, I had (and still have and gave to my son) a model of Discovery and meticulously clipped articles out of the newspaper about its landing and saved them in my desk as a child. I rarely allow myself to feel giddy about anything, but I let myself fully geek out about getting to see it in person. I feel like a bit of a dork to admit it, but I teared up the moment I saw it in real life. Then, in a dark IMAX theater, I cried my way through Deep Sky, a documentary about the James Webb Space Telescope and the images of the universe it captured. My daughter caught me crying, but no one else did. I let myself be fully moved, and to feel that part of my spirit get acknowledged.

These are the feelings I’m chasing- the ones that makes me feel excited, alive, and filled with awe and appreciation. It’s the feeling of embracing and nourishing my inner child. My inner child is happy when I honor what it loves and cares about. It doesn’t want to deal with financial reports, paying bills, or getting quotes for housework or broken appliances. It wants to be expressed and seen. It wants to dream and imagine the possibilities. It wants to manifest my potential, or the idea of my potential.

I’ve come to understand how important it is for each of us to acknowledge and nourish our inner child. I want you to feel just as inspired and awakened as I felt when I reintegrated this ignored passion. To help you accomplish this, answer the following journal prompts:

• How did you answer the question, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” as a child? Write down all of the possibilities you gave yourself, no matter how young you were. Is there still something you want to do as a career that you haven’t yet manifested (that you still want to be “when you grow up”)?
• What out of those possibilities still resonate for you on some level, whether it is a fascination with an idea or area of study, a career goal, a hobby, or otherwise?
• How might you be able to bring more of that into your daily or weekly life?

I hope this journaling exercise will help you spark more joy into your life. It’s especially important during this time of year, because in Chinese Medicine, the summer is all about play, joy, togetherness, and our child-like sense of wonder. When you embrace all parts of yourself, and allow them to be expressed, you let your inner light shine and become your own star (sorry, not sorry for the astronomy pun)!

Note: This article was originally published in a local magazine for their May 2024 issue. For citation references, please contact Dr. Yocum at https://jenyocum.com/contact/