Yesterday I began watching this video of Carnegie Mellon Professor Randy Pausch’s “last lecture” given September 18, 2007. Pausch recently died from pancreatic cancer, and my good friend Ketzirah posted her mourner’s kaddish and the video over at Peeling a Pomegranate. The lecture is about accomplishing your childhood dreams and enabling others to accomplish their dreams.

About 15 minutes into the lecture, I tried thinking about my childhood dreams. What did I want to do or be when I grew up? And I couldn’t think of a thing. I couldn’t remember ever even thinking much about what I would do or who I would be when I grew up. I couldn’t think of any passion that revealed itself for the future as in “When I grow up, I want to be a veterinarian, and I want to be famous and walk on the moon.”

Is it possible that I went through childhood without thinking about the future, without any kind of guiding dream of what I would accomplish? Did I just forget?

So, I called my mother. I explained the context of the lecture and how I couldn’t remember any childhood dreams. I asked her if she, as she is my mom, remembered me ever saying anything about what I wanted to do or be when I grew up.

“Not really,” she said hesitantly (probably wondering where this current round of weird questions about my childhood came from). “You were never really concerned about the future when you were a kid. You played mostly by yourself and created elaborate imaginary games. You talked to yourself constantly. You liked to do artistic stuff — drawing, coloring, finger painting, writing little stories, dancing and singing. It didn’t matter if you were the only one there — you acted out all the parts and pretended there was an audience too. Just as long as you were being creative, you were happy. When we moved into the apartment and you had playmates, you would make up stories for them to act out, and you would direct them. You were also so creative and had so much fun doing it.”

I agreed that’s pretty much how I remembered it, but I could also remember the content of some of those imaginary scenarios. I was a messenger sent from one tribe to another through strange and unknown forests. I was a preacher speaking in front of thousands about how we needed to be good to each other and share our stuff (my parents were ministers). I was a talk-show host interviewing world religious leaders at Camp Chesterfield’s Trail of Religion. I would sing and dance without caring if anyone was around to see or hear. I would draw and paint and make up stories as I did so.

OK, so all well and good, but it’s pretty hard to work toward dreams or goals in life when what really makes you happy is just to have the freedom to have fun, be creative, and do something meaningful and wonderful. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted. That’s what I really want now. But the “adult” part of myself keeps nagging at me that how can I make any plans for the future if I don’t know exactly and specifically what I want to do or be. Because really, it’s just what catches my attention and interest in the moment. I have always been prone to wander off when I see something that I want to explore in more depth.

Maybe if I just keep those things in mind with whatever I do: freedom, fun, creativity, meaning, and wonder. And just take whatever opportunity comes my way to explore and make up my own stories and act them out for myself and others.

I woke up this morning feeling happier than I have in a while. And I wanted to dye my hair blue.