“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people just exist.” 
— Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) Irish poet and playwright

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Do you remember the first time someone asked you that? How old were you? Who asked? What did you say?

From the moment we can hold a basic conversation, adults often pose this question — well-meaning, but a bit presumptive. Before we even learn to read, tie our shoes, or count properly, we’re asked to define our future careers.

Growing up in a rural village in Kedah, my go-to answer was that I wanted to be the village “penghulu” or headman. Why? Simple — he had a bigger house, drove his own car to town, and owned the village’s only television. As a child, that was more than enough to impress me.

Later, in Standard 2, I told my teacher, Miss Roselina Tan, I wanted to be a fireman. Why? Because of the red truck, the cool uniform, the gadgets — and of course, the chance to be a hero. But as I got older and understood the real demands of the job, I realised it wasn’t for me. Fantasies of moon landings and superhero powers faded as adulthood — and reality — set in.

In secondary school, my dreams shifted. I wanted to become a teacher — someone who inspires, motivates, and helps others see their potential. That felt like a real “superpower.”

For some, that early answer never changes — they become exactly what they imagined. But for most of us, our paths evolve. Reality, talents, and limitations guide us toward new directions. That moment of realisation — that you’re better off supporting the national football team than playing for it — is what golfers might call LOFT: Lack Of Freaking Talent.

Now, as someone older and greyer, the question “What do you want to be” means something else entirely. It’s no longer about a job, but about being — living meaningfully, with purpose and intention.

My friends and I often reflect on life’s purpose during post-prayer gatherings. Like students in ancient Greece, we discuss life’s deeper questions. Yet few of us ever wrote a life purpose statement in our youth — a missed opportunity, we now admit.

So to the younger generation: if you’re feeling lost, disconnected from your job, or unsure about your future, take time to reflect on your life’s purpose. Doing so can guide your decisions, improve relationships, and clarify your path.

Even if you’re unsure now, you’re not alone. Many discover their purpose later in life. But by tuning into your inner compass and giving yourself space to explore, you’ll eventually find it.

Having a sense of purpose offers direction. It helps you focus on goals that matter and choose activities that support your well-being. Studies show that people with a clear life purpose tend to live longer, too — they don’t drift; they act intentionally.

So next time you ask a child what they want to be, help them think beyond a job title. Encourage answers rooted in purpose and passion. After all, planting the right seeds early leads to a strong, fruitful tree.

And when all is said and done, maybe then we can say we’ve lived well — purposefully, fully — and yes, earned the right to say we’ve “been there, done that, and got the T-shirt.”