"You are the most aimless person I know!", my friend said with a laugh.
My heart constricted. "I don't want to be," said the little voice inside my head. I've struggled for years with wondering, searching, questioning. What do I want to be when I grow up? Most of my career has been in education and I do greatly enjoy it. I feel comfortable here. But do I love it? Am I passionate about it as others I know are passionate and devoted to their chosen careers? No, not really.
Sad and troubled, I discussed the matter with another friend. As we talked she suddenly seemed to have a brilliant thought (or what she considered to be a brilliant thought, anyway).
"Not all who wander are lost" she exclaimed. "I think Shakespeare or Lewis or someone said that. It was someone famous.""It was Tolkien," I said with a smile. How funny that I just happen to be taking a class on Tolkien this month.
But she had a point. It's something I've been thinking about for a very long time but have been afraid, maybe even ashamed to admit. Maybe a career isn't ultimately what I want. Maybe that is not where my happiness and fulfillment lies. For so long I thought it did. I view a career as a means to an end. I want to find satisfaction in a job well done, certainly, and in being challenged. I want to enjoy those around me and the environment in which I find myself, but that is where it ends. I feel guilty saying that. I feel as if I should want a career, as if I'm squandering all that potential my parents, especially my Father, saw in me. But it just isn't what I want. And that's OK.
My true passion is for learning, exploring, growing, seeing and trying new things. That's not exactly a career. It is a way of life though. It is a way of being. I'm not really sure what that means for me. I know it does not mean I'm going to run out and join a circus or anything like that. But it does mean that there will be changes to how I prioritize and live my life and how I look at my life/work balance going forward.
In other news, I visited Knoxville, TN, this past weekend. It was wonderful and painful and gloriously happy and sad all rolled into one. I loved it. I didn't want to leave when the time came. One of my friends even asked me if maybe I should never have left Knoxville in the first place. It's something I've wondered often since I left. Maybe I shouldn't have. I do know that the few times I've gone back since I moved away it always feels like going home. It feels like it does when I go back to Brazil - safe, familiar, comfortable. Home. And, like home, once you've left, there's a little bit of that you-can't-ever-really-go-back feeling. But I want to. I so desperately want to. But, like so many things right now, I'm unsure, and I'm scared... so, for now, it's another thing I'm going to just take my time and be patient about. In the meantime though, I made sure I got a t-shirt.
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