Once upon a time, there was a girl who had no singular passion, but the whims and ways of a lot of different fields caught her fancy. The tickling of brushstrokes, the intensity in a programmers eyes, the respect given to astrophysicists, the casual success stories of bloggers and the in-the-moment look of a news reporter’s blazer intrigued her just the same, and she often let her mind wander to images of herself in all those shoes.
Then the girl turned 18 and was asked to pick out one pair of shoes to wear for a long, long time. Her mind was restless for many a night, because she was dancing around the crossroad signposts, but society called for expertise, so expertise she must deliver…
And so she made her choice and fell into a pattern of calculated excelling. It was not that she regretted the path she chose- it had its ups and downs- but she still found herself constantly outperformed by those with a heartfelt zeal, those who had broken in the shoes long ago, and found herself clinically working for a pay-check. She never stopped dreaming of a spectrum of a life, one where she was allowed to explore all other varieties of footwear. One where minds did not have to be set in stone at the age of 18, not even about shoes.
positively unresolved 
That’s a very well-written original post. The thought you expressed here also happens to be the plot of one of my favorite movies.
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which movie is that? may have to watch in the future
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It’s an Indian movie called Tamasha.
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