Thinking Outside the Triangle

Recently two events occurred that made me stop and think. The first transpired during an innocent walk down a sunny street in Westchester. My mother-in-law and I were walking with my daughter, who was sucking her fingers while we pushed her in her stroller. A rather benign older couple walked by and suddenly stopped us with pleasant smiles. (All exchanges between strangers in Westchester tend to be pleasant and mildly uninteresting, albeit in a deliberately unoffensive and polite way.)

"Your daughter sucks her fingers the same way our daughter did," the wife exclaimed, referring to my daughter's somewhat unusual habit of sucking her pointer and middle fingers with her palm turned upward.

"And she turned out to be a talented musician," the husband interjected proudly. "You'll see. That one's going to be creative."

I smiled and thanked them, but something was troubling me. However, it was a beautiful day, so I chose to repress the storm clouds that were beginning to form in my mind.

But then, the other day, something else occurred. My daughter and I were playing with her shape sorter. I gave her a circular block, and she pushed it through the circular hole. I, of course, was quite proud of my progeny. Then I gave her the triangle block. She attempted to stick it through the round hole; when that failed, she tried to stick it through the triangle-shaped hole, but she couldn't quite get it in. Undaunted, she turned the shape sorter over until she found the toy's general opening, where you can remove blocks from inside or insert them for storage. She shoved the triangle block through the opening and then, without a second thought, promptly moved on to her next task: emptying her sock basket onto the floor.

I was somewhat taken aback. My daughter had found a creative solution to the problem that wasn't expected or traditional, but worked just as well. She had thought outside of the triangle.

And that got me thinking. What if the pleasant couple was right? What if my daughter is indeed destined to be an artist, or a musician, or a writer? The prospect made me wonder: Do I want that life for her? Sure, I want her to be creative in her approach to problems, and have a creative outlet like writing or art that brings her joy and reduces her stress. But, in all honesty, might I have been happier if that couple's daughter had grown up to be a doctor or an accountant? As a writer myself, I hate to admit it...but, well, maybe.

When most parents dream of what they want for their children, they think big: an astronaut, a basketball star, the president of the United States. No mother dreams of her child growing up to be a middle manager. But middle managers have some nice perks...health benefits, vacation time, salaries and relative stability. They also, in general, tend to avoid some of the drama that accompanies more artistic pursuits: constant rejection, unstable income, the inability to qualify for a mortgage or a lease on a car. As a book editor, I've seen many an author struggle to pay his bills while waiting for his meager advance check to arrive. Yes, I know the greatest things in life are those things you work to achieve. I guess I just don't want my daughter to have to work so, well, hard.

Ultimately, of course, I will support my daughter in whatever it is she wants to do, whether she wants to be a computer programmer or a world-famous composer. I want her to be happy and fulfilled. I guess I just hope, right or wrong, that she'll prefer to use that creativity to be the next Steve Jobs rather than the next Vincent Van Gogh. And in the meantime, I think we'll move on to Mega Blocks. You never hear about architects cutting off their ears.