I looked online for some new career assessment quizzes to take but couldn't find any that didn't require an email address off the bat. All I need...more spam! But I really don't know what new revelations could be ascertained from another aptitude test. The answers are always the same...that I should be a writer, editor, therapist, teacher, and the last one always gets me ..... ARTIST.
I try to live a balanced life which entails 50% enjoying the creative arts out there and 50% creating my own. But lately that pie chart reveals 70% enjoying the arts, 20% wasting time and 10% creating works of my own. So it looks like I'm falling down on the job of ARTIST yet again.
I find myself lately (particularly during that 20% of wasting time) that all I really want to do is help people somehow. In what capacity that is remains to be seen.
Maybe when that 'calling' hits it will come sprinting to life for me. Not a leisurely stroll nor a tiptoe, but a full on 50 yard dash toward the finish line.
Why is it that some people know what they are going to do from early early ages, while so many others just loaf their way through life? What is it that marks these people differently from the start?
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Join us for a very special finale....
So I tuned in this morning to the final Oprah. I was never a regular devotee but I do admit her impact and influence on soooooo many is definitely remarkable.
There's that one thing that always bugs me though....that we all have a 'calling.'. Is that true? I mean how does that relate to all the millions of crappy jobs that simply must be done in this world? Working as a polite salesgirl does not feel like my 'calling' in life, but rather a necessity to make ends meet and hold health insurance. Though I try to make each day the best it can be, it certainly is not the life fulfillment that I seek. And I don't have the financial means to start myself on some sort of new career path. I am stuck in my full-time situation for the time being.
The world has needs for all kinds of people. So how many are really living a life they love? I know there's more than just 'jobs' to define a person, but let's face it....jobs make up a huuuuge part of how we are defined. We often spend more time with our co-workers than we do with our own family and loved ones.
I used to wonder if writing was my calling. I remember that feeling from as early as the tenth grade when my high school English teacher pulled me aside to ask if I would consider joining the school newspaper staff. "You really do have strong writing skills," is what Ms. Thandholt had said to me. I signed up for a year of Journalism class and spent my senior year writing silly feature articles for the Inklings newspaper. I didn't much care for the roving reporter aspect and writing strict news articles, however, so I didn't continue the journalistic adventure into college.
Writing is a hobby. A way to organize my thoughts, feelings and ideas. But I'm still not convinced that it's a calling.
Perhaps if a calling hits me I can use my hobby of writing to EXPLORE the said calling. But no, I don't have one just yet.
And I guess in Oprah's eyes, or whomever else's, that signals some kind of weakness or emptiness or something.
We must be careful who we listen to. C'est nous qui sommes les proprieteres de notre vie.
There's that one thing that always bugs me though....that we all have a 'calling.'. Is that true? I mean how does that relate to all the millions of crappy jobs that simply must be done in this world? Working as a polite salesgirl does not feel like my 'calling' in life, but rather a necessity to make ends meet and hold health insurance. Though I try to make each day the best it can be, it certainly is not the life fulfillment that I seek. And I don't have the financial means to start myself on some sort of new career path. I am stuck in my full-time situation for the time being.
The world has needs for all kinds of people. So how many are really living a life they love? I know there's more than just 'jobs' to define a person, but let's face it....jobs make up a huuuuge part of how we are defined. We often spend more time with our co-workers than we do with our own family and loved ones.
I used to wonder if writing was my calling. I remember that feeling from as early as the tenth grade when my high school English teacher pulled me aside to ask if I would consider joining the school newspaper staff. "You really do have strong writing skills," is what Ms. Thandholt had said to me. I signed up for a year of Journalism class and spent my senior year writing silly feature articles for the Inklings newspaper. I didn't much care for the roving reporter aspect and writing strict news articles, however, so I didn't continue the journalistic adventure into college.
Writing is a hobby. A way to organize my thoughts, feelings and ideas. But I'm still not convinced that it's a calling.
Perhaps if a calling hits me I can use my hobby of writing to EXPLORE the said calling. But no, I don't have one just yet.
And I guess in Oprah's eyes, or whomever else's, that signals some kind of weakness or emptiness or something.
We must be careful who we listen to. C'est nous qui sommes les proprieteres de notre vie.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Oh spring, ou est tu?
It's STILL a chilly spring. Used to be my most INSPIRING season, with all the newness, rebirth, rejuvenation, all the greenery and blooms. The sun has been appearing from time to time but the perpetual wintery breeze still lives on...
Chicago is facing a new day...new mayor...Oprah's departure. Not that those things REALLY affect me, but you know, it's the buzz on the streets...the werds on the bus. As I await the warmth, I dread the heat. As I commute to work each day, I give thanks for a JOB but suffer anxiety over its security. As physicalities diminish, the digital age grabs on with all its might. A changing world, morphing terrains, new horizons and territories...everything breathes some strange sort of new life.
And so, perhaps these times are still inspiring, just in a different way. Gotta get used to it all. I'm tryin', really I am, even if it means popping a few pills to get by.
All doctor-prescribed, bien sur.
Chicago is facing a new day...new mayor...Oprah's departure. Not that those things REALLY affect me, but you know, it's the buzz on the streets...the werds on the bus. As I await the warmth, I dread the heat. As I commute to work each day, I give thanks for a JOB but suffer anxiety over its security. As physicalities diminish, the digital age grabs on with all its might. A changing world, morphing terrains, new horizons and territories...everything breathes some strange sort of new life.
And so, perhaps these times are still inspiring, just in a different way. Gotta get used to it all. I'm tryin', really I am, even if it means popping a few pills to get by.
All doctor-prescribed, bien sur.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Springtime....
So much time has passed since my last update. I survived a grueling winter, complete with a blizzard and three feet of snow. And I've thus far survived a chilly spring. Hopefully that will soon change.
I am seeking new inspirations...my mind has fizzled in recent months. I wake up, go to work, commute back home, watch tv or a movie or read, then head off to bed by 9pm. It's a sleepy, monotonous life these days. I miss the vigor of my youth. Not even my youth, but my early twenties sound nice right about now.
Happy Spring to all....
I am seeking new inspirations...my mind has fizzled in recent months. I wake up, go to work, commute back home, watch tv or a movie or read, then head off to bed by 9pm. It's a sleepy, monotonous life these days. I miss the vigor of my youth. Not even my youth, but my early twenties sound nice right about now.
Happy Spring to all....
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