Like my pondering (distracted) Meerkat friend to my immediate left, I know that I have the potential to be able to stand tall, above the mob (collective noun for Meerkats) to become the best mongoose I can be, heck, we all have the potential!

I tend to automatically however, assume that to stand up on my hind legs would be foolish because a, I have poor balance and b, what if I fail, after all, it's much safer at ground level.

Sound familiar?

I know what you're thinking; Meerkats do not set life goals. On the contrary, sure, they may not stand tall to be the best they can be academically. They do however, stand tall to ensure they are not preyed upon by larger mongoose eating pointy toothed hungry mammals. Now, if that ain't a life goal, I don't know what is! (Plus I though the photo was cute).

When I was a child, I was told by my mother that I could be anything I wanted to be. I believed her, every word of it. At age seven I yearned to be a flight attendant. I was a knock-kneed, buck toothed, Vegemite smeared littlun'  with the poise of a three legged drunk antelope. As we travelled a fair amount in the 1980's I spent a lot of time in the company of flight attendants, they were so glamourous, so, well, nice, plus, the were able to see the world AND wear fancy hats!

 My sisters and I would play 'airplanes'. My sisters would reluctantly sit on chairs in the hallway, facing the doorway, with nothing to do but beg to not play.... again. Dressed in Mum's polyester peasant shirt, kitten heels and rose pink lipstick, I would be in the kitchen gathering food (mainly dry Weetbix and sultanas - Mum was on to me and hid the contraband) for the impending flight. 

I would appear from the kitchen, clumsily kitten heel clad, shuffle over to my one year old sister Crystal as she had managed to clamber off the chair and hastily crawl off, place her back onto her chair, shuffle back to my trolley (doll pram) and proceed to serve my passengers their delectable in-flight meal. 

It now occurs to me why my sisters did not enjoy my game. It wasn't due to the fact that they were encouraged (forced) to sit for up to an hour on Sanders Flight SD001, no. It was due to the fact that they were invited (forced) to eat dry Weetbix with no milk, or water, with a handful of sultanas as a chaser.

Needless to say, my aspirations of being an air stewardess were short lived due to the poor customer feedback I received on more than one occasion through upper management (sorry Mum).

By age eight, becoming a teacher was on the cards. All through my years of Primary School I had wonderfully supportive teachers, as some of you well know my mother passed away when I was eight, my teacher Miss Smith was a wonderful support during that time as she had become close to my mother. Throughout Primary School, my sister and I were 'the girls who lost their mother', so teachers (predominantly female) became strong role models for us.

Into High School I attended work experience at a local Primary School in 1994 with another class mate. It was an enriching experience, the children were so engaging, the staff enjoyed guiding us (me thinks my mentor teacher perfected the art of delegation). It was set in stone.... Miss Sanders... yes, I had discovered my calling.

Then I discovered teenage Meerkats (boys).....

Aspirations of teaching faded, daydreaming of my latest crush was high on my list of priorities. If I could go back in time, I would most definitely grab a handful of my teenage hormones, attach my future to them and slap myself in the back of the head... erm... metaphorically speaking ... ahem. 

Or would I?

My mother's guiding words of 'you can do it' slowly faded as years went on. I believed I could get by on sheer luck, good humour and to work with what I knew. The tune 'I'll do it later' sung over and over in my mind.

In my early twenties, I had aspirations to become a nurse, then an accountant, perhaps a psychologist. Nothing came of any of these ideas. Nah, I'll do it later. Sheer luck and humour it would have to be.

I am witness to the academic, life, family and career successes of former school peers and others, all of which I enthusiastically applaud. The determination and 'you can do it' attitude are to be admired and celebrated. I have wondered on occasion the 'what ifs' of my life. What if I followed a dream, any dream? What if I travelled? What if I.... so on and so forth.

So, I ask myself the following questions:

 

Do I HAVE to have a career? Well, no. 

Am I plagued with regret? No.

Am I happy? Yes! 

Should I do what makes me happy? Hells yes!

 

I cannot turn back the clock and slap myself with a text book and accompanying oestrogen. Decisions I have made have been made with the best intentions at the time.

The choices that I have made have created the whacky off centred human you see before you. My weird little humans may not be here, my ace partner, fabulous friends would not be a part of my life.

Regret and wishful 'I wish I'd...' thinking do not an enriched human make (in my opinion). Knowing and understanding this has inadvertently assisted me in creating my own internal 'you can do it' mantra. 

As an adult (insert snorty laugh here) I am now standing up (gingerly) onto my bony Meerkat hind legs  and setting goals, life goals, all the while relishing in the accomplishments I have instinctively made.

What I can do is encourage my little ones, partner, friends and yes, myself that they/I can do what ever they/I want and to set goals, teaching them/myself to re-assess where they're/I'm at and to not 'sweat it' when things seem tough.

In the words of a famous meerkat and his swine pal:

"Hakuna Matata!" It means no worries!

Seems I should take heed of that advice, for the rest of my days....