A Repeat

I am once again questioning every choice I have ever made and every path I have ever strode upon. Why? Once again, someone very clever and becoming dear to me has brought to my attention that I have entered myself into a futile profession. Not in those words mind you, but he certainly brought up some very valid points...or were they? I, when growing up and performing in my back yard(whilst dictating my sisters every move), not once, not ever pontificated on the matters of money. Did I ever worry how I'd support myself? Did i ever wonder how others would see my choices and development? Did I ever think that somehow I was lacking in my choice of career, nay, passion while others had the "right" idea? Nope. I dreamt of stages lit with white light and my talents. I thought of roles that entertained the world and changed the hearts of a rare few deserving of such knowledge. Money was never on the radar of my hopes and goals. Was it just because of my youth that these thoughts never surfaced, or was it that money does not equate value. If you were a young lad growing up and relishing a life in a field as invasive as medicine, AND, you were not getting paid for it...would you still voluntarily enter into such a daunting choice? Of course reverence would come to those who chose this profession as with acting, but if the money were never a factor...would people still do the maniacally insane amount of work it takes to enter such a field? Sure you love what you do and you affect other people which inevitably aids in the world remembering you, but would you still do it? Is it wrong of me to want to get paid to do what I love? Is it almost an obscene idea to try and put money in the same sentence as what I love? Does money belong in a conversation about passion and involvement? Perhaps it is I who puts all the emphasis in the wrong avenue. I just feel pressure, from nearly perfect strangers apparently, to convince them of the benefits of being in the arts. I would love not to ever serve another human being again in any capacity other than to entertain. I would need money for that...payment of sorts...perhaps return to a time of mercantilism and receive an arm load of beans for a performance...magic ones of course, but it would be some recognition of sorts. The world would know I have purpose and my struggles would not go in vain. I long for the days of flitting bout my back yard, doing magic shows and Beach Boys air bands. I never worried about convincing anyone of anything...maybe cuz I didn't have to convince myself. So why am I so intent on making money such an integral part of what I love to do? Cuz everyone else does? Cuz i secretly do but refuse to admit it on principle? Or cuz a doctor wants to know, "Where do you go with this, exactly?" Why do I need to know where it goes? How will that help me lead a fulfilling and positive life? Am I only bothered by his valid questions because I feel like I am not accomplishing what I should be and am only deflecting so I don't end every night in tears with ice cream pouring from my eye sockets? Now I am off topic, I'm afraid. Anyways, the point is I long for a day when I could say to someone upon meeting them, "I am an actor" without hesitation and looking away sheepishly cuz I see the same old question rising in their throat and i'm embarrassed by my admission.