Follow your bliss. I am lucky. My parents provided me with good books when I was a child: Pond Life, Kipling's Jungle Book, books about Native Americans. There was not much money growing up but my dad knew how to carve a willow whistle from a willow tree and he carved spinning tops from wooden spools when the thread was used up. He taught me about the workings of nature and brought home a pair of guinea pigs, tadpoles that grew legs and turned into frogs, moths and butterflies that visited the zinnias in our garden. He was a scientist and he took me to his lab and let me play with the test tubes. He could change liquids to many colors. I saw the dissection of a chicken.
So I have followed my bliss. I met Native Americans: Tarahumara in Copper Canyon, a Kiowa in Aspen Colorado named Scott Momaday, two Cree shaman, people still understanding living close to nature and following traditional ways.
I have followed my bliss by writing a book about the ever changing Great Lakes systems: The Dynamic Great Lakes. I have written three books of poetry: The Wilderness Within; Sophia's Lost and Found; and Between Sweetwater and Sand.
I paint. Here is a tree I liked in South Carolina. I follow my bliss by writing and painting. It's a great life.