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Monday, April 12, 2010

Mid Life Crisis

I don't consider myself to be a writer.  Not yet.  It is a lovely idea though.  One I think a little piece of me is starting to take more seriously.  Like many people I still have a romanticized idea of what "being a writer" looks like, feels like.  I know the truth.  I have friends who are writers.  I chose to ignore reality sometimes.  This is one of those times.

I am slowly coming to realize that I am currently experiencing a phase of life that is sometimes referred to as "a mid-life crisis".  In the past I've heard this time of questioning, examining, and re-direction referred to that way when it included divorce, newer (younger) spouses, and a new sports car. Oh, yea, and the one having the crisis always seems to be a man.

There's nothing so drastic as any of that going on.  The closing of the warehouse I had worked in for the past 11+ years marked the beginning of this stage in my life.  I'm not assigning blame.  There is none to assign.  Just fixing the time in my mind.  I have no idea how long these things take so it will be interesting to see if I can pinpoint the ending as easily as the beginning.

I was laid off mid-August last year.  I am on unemployment.  I am working to turn a hobby into a business.  My writings around everything having to do with that can be found at DyedBrightHere.com.  I use that blog and the related Etsy shop to move forward with the goal of becoming self-employed.  I also use Twitter (I am the @BrightEyedDyer ) to introduce myself and my products to the world, to network, to socialize, to make friends and hang out.  I have been making myself put the posts for these blogs in writing.  I know that sounds ridiculous but I can't even begin to tell you how many amazing posts I have written only in my mind.

With the forced increase in my writing  came an actual desire to do more writing.  Go figure.  This blog is for all of my non-work related (G to PG-13 rated) musings.  I am finding myself observing more.  Thinking more.  Wanting to express myself more.  In more ways.

In many ways I am sure of who I am.  I use labels: daughter, sister, musician, artist, animal-lover, photographer, lover, wife, mother, parent, partner, home-owner, knitter, spinner, designer, fiber-artist, textile designer, poet, woman, friend, indie dyer, blogger, fat-ass, lazy-ass, smart-ass, shop-owner, red-headed, blue-eyed, big-breasted, ADD enabled, writer.  As I make that list today, their are some new labels in there.  Some (like friend) I have always know about but never put in the list.  Some (like poet, shop-owner, and writer) are new additions.  Individually, these labels give a little piece of information about me.  Together, they form an interesting picture.

And yet, I still don't know who I am.  I wonder how many people really know who they are.  How many ever manage to get past the day-to-day crap, the business of eking out an existence, of taking care of self and family.  I suppose a lot of people might not want to dig down into themselves, past the levels of artificiality, past the conventional, past the conscious into the truth of the Self.  We all have so much potential, so many dreams and hopes and wishes and desires when we are young.  I think part of this mid-life thing is comparing those things I have wanted to do, to explore, to be with what I have done, where I have gone, and who I am now.  Putting the various stages and ages of me on a cosmic balancing scale.

Many of the things I thought I wanted I now realize I didn't.  So, the fact that I did not pursue them doesn't bother me in the slightest.  Some I still wish I had done but the time for doing them has past and I am okay with that.  I am finding that as I age the things I want to find out about and do are different than from those younger days.  Sometimes the difference is because my 44 year old self realizes her physical limitations.  Limitations a teenager wouldn't even have dreamed could happen to Her.  Ah well.  More often than not, those things that now intrigue me have more to do with self exploration and self expression.

And so, I want to write.  More.  Seems more like an inward road trip than a crisis.  But about that sports car...

This is what I plan on tooling down the road to self-discovery in...if only in my mind. *sigh*


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