Perhaps that title should read "What to be when I grow old?" I've been a lot of things. Baby, daughter, niece, sister, smart kid, storyteller (not liar), journalist, draftsperson, staple remover, truck driver, waitress, adulteress, married to a man, lesbian, co-owner of advertising studio, graphic designer, printer, social services program manager, bean picker, bean counter (bookkeeper), public relations guru, photographer, hoarder, collector, thrift store manager, ecumenical ministries director, newspaper headline writer, moocher, independent, smart, pastoral counselor, teacher, retreat leader, closet cleaner, listener, fund raiser, television ad writer, rodeo barrel rider, poet, screen printer, computer guru, theologian, student....
Each person has many titles and many "beings", but I hope most of you have not held as many jobs as I have. Still, it's good to be a Renaissance woman. I can bake biscuits as well as repair lamps and lift heavy things. I have some artistic talent and I love learning.
I know and believe that each person has intrinsic worth simply because he/she is. But, that seems to be about other people, not about me. When I'm meditating (and distracted), I muse on what I am and am not doing with my gifts and talents. I have lots of great ideas, and I frequently start many of them. I have so many unfinished projects in so many different areas that I would not know where to begin to finish any of them. And, the ideas keep abounding, growing, multiplying like rabbits and mice.
The strange part is that I feel I need to have a passion - something that I love to do to the exclusion of the multitude of others. I like to knit, crochet, design, paint, draw, build things, organize, be pastorally caring, listen, work with computers. And, the tools with which to do these things are all here and multiplying almost as quickly as my ideas. I work part-time in a yarn shop, and I love meeting the people, arranging the yarns, working on the website, making good displays. And, some days that's a passion. Some days I really dread going to work, and I feel drained when I get home.
Some days I want to go out and change the world so that the people for whom I've provided pastoral care and survive in this world - most never make it out of their poverty or illness or situations. Some days I have images in my mind so strongly that the colors I see influence my moods (both for the good and the bad). I envision a crochet/knit replica of a reef, which I began some time ago - and quit. No project or occupation seems to last. My interest wanes, hope disappears, and I just quit.
I have a book from my therapist, "If the Buddha got stuck", and I suspect that I need to read more of it. Propping it at the edge of my computer screen does not help me. But, my life has always been such a mish-mash of projects and passions that I cannot concentrate on one thing long enough to finish it or to become truly an "artist". I get just good enough and I quit.
So, what use am I? Now that I'm growing older, what do I want to be/do? Why isn't who/what I am enough? Why do I feel that I should be/do more? And, why don't I do/be it?
Okay, so now I have the questions. Feel free to add your own questions and/or answers.