Cheesy Ambitions: Doing What You Love, No Matter What

The Cheese Connoisseur

One day, while in the office packing for an upcoming project, I noticed a pile of cheese peering from Aaron’s half-zipped duffle bag.

“You sure that’s enough?” I asked in jest.

Aaron flashed a smile. “Never!”

I walked over and examined the cheese. “These your favorite?”

“I like them all. Goat cheese, cow cheese, bleu cheese, brie cheese, aged cheese—any cheese really.  They’re all great—the flavor, the texture, the versatility, and the smell too.”  Aaron handed me a piece of cheese. “Here.”

The strong smell overwhelmed me. “Hmm, this smells kinda—”

“It’s five years old.” Aaron took a bite of his piece.

“Ah, of…of course.” I uneasily took a bite. “The scent is strong, but I like it—kinda. How is it ok to eat cheese this old?”

As cheese aficionado Aaron explained cheese to me, a hapless ignoramus in the realm of fromology (i.e. the study of cheese), Ken, a fellow coworker, entered the office.  “You guys seen my laptop? And why does it smell like ass in here?”

I winced at Kent. “That’s because you probably haven’t showered.”

“Screw you, asshole. It’s probably that right there.” Kent pointed at the assortment of cheese next to his laptop.

I sniffed the cheese. “Hmmm. Don’t think so, Kent. It lacks that cat piss smell of yours.”

Kent gave me the middle finger.

Aaron began packing up his cheese. “I’m gonna miss seeing you two fight.”

I threw the laptop to Kent, hoping he wouldn’t catch it. “Why? You transferring to another location?”

“No. I’m thinking of quitting in a couple of months. Planning to turn in my notice once I find some land.”

“Why, dude? Seriously?! You got a sweet gig! We’re making bank here!” Kent yelled.

Aaron shrugged. “I just wanna find a nice piece of land somewhere—in Texas. I’ll set up a nice cheese farm and make all the cheese I want.”

“We’ve talked about this! You’re throwing it all away! There’s no money in cheese! Fucking cheese?!” Kent shook his head.

I checked the time. “Aaron. We need to head out soon.” We packed our bags and left.

As we drove away, I saw Kent waving in the distance. “Talk some sense into him!” Kent shouted.

“He’s just mad because he smells like ass,” I said, swallowing the last bit of the 5-year-old cheddar. “And you told him about this plan before me?! The only kind of cheese he knows is cheesy pick-up lines.”

Second Mouse Gets the Cheese

Even though we discussed a great many things, any conversation about cheese would brighten Aaron’s face. But, as the months went on, I noticed a persistent melancholy in Aaron. It was subtle, but evident because our cheese-themed conversations no longer brought him the same joy. It must have come about during the gaps of time when we were not working together.

While driving home from a joint project one day, I learned why.

“You know—they say the early bird gets the worm, but doesn’t the second mouse get the cheese?” I said, glancing at Aaron in the passenger seat.

Aaron’s smile faded as quickly as it appeared. “Hah! Good one!”

Nothing. We sat quietly for over an hour.

Suddenly, Aaron broke the silence. “Ace.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think…do you think it’s weird…that I just want to make cheese?”

Despite intense opposition, I knew that Aaron was in the final stages of buying land for his farm. But even though his love never waned, his assurance did. Everyone he knew opposed the idea. I was the only one who stayed neutral—preferring to be left out of it, thinking that it was none of my business.

I took a deep breath and sighed. “It shouldn’t matter what I think.”

“Be honest though. Everyone thinks it’s dumb,” Aaron lamented, fidgeting with a block of cheese from his backpack. “I want this. But, should I just…wait a bit?”

Honestly, at the time, I didn’t understand him either. Cheese is tasty, yes. But to be so enamored by it was rather peculiar. He would be giving up an enviable career, a stable income, and his engineering degree—all in an attempt to pursue…cheese. Did that even make sense?

I stared at the endless Texas highway for what seemed an insufferably long time. Not knowing what to say, I was straddling the line between friend and practical advisor.

I glanced at Aaron, realizing that he didn’t need another practical advisor. He just needed a friend. “I can’t say I completely understand. But what I do understand is that you love it and it makes you happy. If it is your ambition to make cheese, then go for it.”

“You don’t think I’m crazy for throwing this lucrative career away? Everyone else said so.” Aaron asked, following up with a pained smile.

“Lucrative…” I repeated, becoming very agitated. Maybe Aaron wasn’t the crazy one. People hope that their money could buy them happiness. But what if happiness was an option already? Did it make sense to forgo actual happiness to pursue the thing that could hopefully buy it?

I pulled the car over and fixed my gaze on the cheese connoisseur. “From the looks of it, you’re throwing your happiness away if you stay. You changing your mind? Quitting one day with tons of money to FINALLY build your farm? No…if you wait too long, it’ll be too hard to leave. You’ll be stuck—like the older engineers. The dream will be a distant memory. And for what? Practicality? Money? You want to be practical and unhappy?”

Aaron stared down in silence.

I grabbed the cheese and held it to his face. “The others made the mistake. We can learn from it. Fuck it, Aaron. Fuck Kent. Fuck everyone. Fuck ALL OF THIS. Fuck Kent again. Do. It. Follow your cheesy ambitions!”

Aaron’s familiar bright smile returned as he nodded. “Next week…I’m going to do it. Gonna follow my dreams.”

“Right behind you,” I replied.

Second Chance

Sometimes, I still think about that aspiring cheese farmer. I had left the oil field shortly after Aaron did, and we have not kept in touch since.

I hope he’s doing what he loves. I hope he’s making some delicious cheese. And, if he is, I’m sure he’s happy. I regret not being wiser back then. If I had a second chance, I would tell him what I know now, so that he would never feel insecure about being himself.

It does not matter if what you love is not profitable, popular, or practical. It’s not your fault that some people are not open-minded enough to understand another person’s different point of view, passion, or lifestyle. And why even feel ashamed when you’re happy doing something—even if it’s “silly” or “different”? What’s silly is doing something that you hate, especially if others hate themselves so much that they want you to hate yourself, too.

If you can—or even if you think you can—chase your ambitions. Maybe it lets you relive a fond memory. Maybe it reminds you of a loved one. Maybe it’s something you’re good at. Or maybe it’s just something you happen to love. You do not have to explain yourself to anyone. Ever. No one else has to understand. And anyone who judges you can kiss your ass.

I see now that Aaron could have loved literally anything else—computers, strawberries, chocolate, whatever. It was never just about cheese. It was about doing what he loved, no matter what.