I Have A Voice
I am in a very rare phase of my life where I have nothing but time to evaluate, question, analyze. I usually do that anyway but I’m starting to realize how much of my life I’ve lived filling up time. I’m a workaholic. I’ll just admit it. And it’s fine in the industry I chose to participate in. The performing arts is not a lucritive field for the vast majority of people and there are so many facets, you can spin your wheels all day everyday. And there are so many amazingly talented people. Truly. Between having 2-4 jobs at a time, networking and working out I kept myself really quite busy when I lived in LA. Being busy served a few purposes. I made just enough money to pay my bills, I had very limited time for friends and loved ones to get very close emotionally (a few slipped through despite the busyness, thankfully), and I had only small amounts of time to doubt myself or to deal with my very early feelings of choosing a career (dance) that I wasn’t actually very good at, despite my best efforts. I always thought if I just kept trudging, kept pressing on, pushing hard, showing up that I would get to be good, that I would achieve. So I pressed hard, I took every opportunity that came my way but instead of feeling like I achieved, I felt like I became the epitome of jack of all trades-master of none.
Now I have plenty of time for doubt to show up and to be weighed and measured and found wanting. Now my stakes are higher because I have a loved one involved, attached to my successes and failures. I need more then ever to see that all these pieces do fit together in a puzzle. I need it.I truly leapt into life with the desire for truth and greatness and there is a huge part of me that believes everything I’ve been through, all my strengths AND weaknesses, are all cultivating in a great work of art. But for the life of me I can’t see it on the horizon and I’m starting to wonder if my dreams are, in reality, pipe dreams. Am I fooling myself? If I am, now would be the time to figure it out. And by it I don’t mean the meaning of life, I mean the meaning of my life. I believe in myself. I’m intelligent and hardworking. I’m dedicated and disciplined, loyal, loving, open and honest (though patient I am not, nor am I carefree or an outside of the box thinker). I just don’t know if any of those things helped me to be the creative, talented and unique person I wanted to be. Or maybe I’m judging this all wrong and I am exactly what I am supposed to be (although unemployed isn’t really something to hang your hat on), where I’m supposed to be and I’m incredibly valuable I just can’t see it because the value is to someone else entirely. There has got to be something more I’m headed for then blog writing, working out and going on dates with Dan. I must have something more to offer my partner then just my loyalty and commitment, my desire to be in close proximity. I know I believe in myself, I just don’t know what payoff I’m looking to gain. I know I have a voice. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be saying with it.
Do you ever feel similarly? Have you found your purpose in life, your specific direction? What does that feel like?