My major was Fine Arts and Education thinking I would become an

The words of Mark Mothersbaugh—“My major was Fine Arts and Education thinking I would become an Art Teacher. I couldn't visualize myself as an art teacher, thinking how it wouldn't work.”—reveal the tension between expectation and calling, between the safe road that others envision for us and the deeper path our spirit demands. In his reflection, Mothersbaugh confesses that though he studied the disciplines of Fine Arts and Education with the practical thought of becoming an Art Teacher, his inner vision told him otherwise. He could not see himself walking that road, for the fit between his spirit and that destiny was not true.

The meaning of this truth is that not every preparation leads to the destiny we imagine. Often, we walk through doors not to remain within them, but to find the strength to move toward another, more fitting path. Mothersbaugh’s study of Fine Arts and Education was not wasted—it laid the groundwork of discipline, skill, and understanding. Yet his inability to visualize himself as a teacher revealed the stirring of his true calling, one that would lead him to a life of creative exploration, music, and art beyond the classroom. Thus, the voice of intuition becomes as important as the voice of reason, guiding us when the practical plan does not align with the soul’s design.

This conflict between preparation and calling has echoed through history. Consider Albert Einstein, who was initially trained as a patent clerk, a career path far removed from the great discoveries he would later make. Had Einstein clung to the expected course, his genius may never have been revealed. But his inability to imagine himself bound by the narrow routines of bureaucracy freed him to listen to the music of the cosmos, and so he gave the world new visions of space and time. Mothersbaugh’s struggle mirrors this: the heart sometimes whispers, “This is not your true path.” And those who heed it often go on to reshape the world.

Another story comes from the life of Vincent van Gogh, who in his early years trained to be a preacher, walking among coal miners and the poor. Yet he found that this road, though noble, was not his true form of service. He could not visualize himself as a pastor, for his soul spoke in colors and brushstrokes rather than sermons. Though his life was fraught with pain, his surrender to the path of art left humanity with treasures that outlast kingdoms. In both van Gogh and Mothersbaugh, we see the same principle: the failure to fit into one role became the opening to embrace another.

The lesson, O children of tomorrow, is that not every plan is destiny. We may study one path, but be called to another. This is not failure, but transformation. When the inner vision cannot see itself within a role, it is a sign to look deeper, to seek the truer calling that aligns with the spirit. The courage to turn away from a role that “wouldn’t work” is often the very act that opens the door to greatness.

Practically, this calls us to listen to the inner voice of clarity. If you find yourself on a path that feels untrue, do not despair. Ask instead: What am I truly called to build? What can I see myself doing with life and joy? Then dare to follow that vision, even if it seems uncertain or strange. Mothersbaugh might have remained an art teacher, respected but unfulfilled. Instead, by following what felt alive within him, he became a pioneer of sound and art, touching millions in ways a classroom never could.

Thus, let this wisdom be inscribed upon the scroll of human remembrance: study may prepare, but vision must direct. Do not chain yourself to roles that your spirit rejects, for you were not created to merely endure, but to flourish. The true path is the one where your gifts and your joy meet, where preparation becomes the servant of calling, not its master. Follow that path with courage, and your life will become a work of art greater than any canvas.