What's behind the curtain?

Do you sometimes think to yourself, "What's behind the curtain?"

Like Little Lucy in The Chronicles of Narnia, what lies behind the door of the wardrobe presents a world beyond her imagination. Don't we often experience the same kind of anticipation and anxiety as we stand there...a little hopeful, a little unsure, a little scared even. When was the first time we made a decision for ourselves which brings us to the next step in our lives? Our choice of schools to enter, the CCA we choose to join, our group of friends, the religion we have and it goes on.

The first time I chose to go to the secondary school I was in, it was simply because my brother is studying there so there was someone I knew. A simple decision without much thought which land me 4 years in the school. The decision to make social work my major in university. I wanted to do psychology but was not successful in balloting for any psychology modules for one year. When I filed an appeal, I was rejected. I went on to do social work as a career for the next 4 years preceding my tertiary education.

Standing here, yet in front of the curtain once again, I wonder to myself, "What is behind the curtain?" What is my best fit in the social work arena? Am I cut out to be a clinician. a trainer, management or what? What is my specialisation going to be? To work with children, youth. families, couples, elderly, the mentally ill, special needs or what? Another decision awaits me and it does not get easier. Is this a sign of moving on to adulthood?

13/01/10 (my journal)
I always believe that the growing up process is a bittersweet one. Bitter but yet sweet, sweet but yet bitter. I pity the person who does not know its taste. You feel you are you and yet, you are not you. It's a strange feeling which cannot be explained. Maybe it does not need any explanation at all. Like how the character in Avatar probably feels when he is in a dfferent skin. He is still him but yet, he is not him anymore. What he sees and feels becomes so different but yet, there is a part of him which remains. The essence of a person, when he is left with nothing at all, how do you recognise him? Some people call it "the feel". I can feel that it's him. It's something about the way he talks, it's his voice or something, which they quite often pinpoint, that helps them to recognise someone from a distance...