I think I'm having an identity crisis.For so long, I've felt that I was in a stage of life that I could ride on out, and when it was over, I could get on with my life. After I'm done being a mom, I'll be a writer. After I'm done being a daughter, I'll be a lover. After I'm done having babies, I'll lose weight.
But now I find that I'm approaching a stage I wasn't quite prepared to enter into.
Middle age.
And it reminds me that I shouldn't wait. That I need to get right to those things I want to do. I need to write. I need to travel. I need to love more and yell less and be patient more and procrastinate less.
But it also has another effect on me. Futility. I feel so much like the writer of Ecclesiastes. Futile! It's all futile! It will all go up in a puff of smoke! I spend a lot of my time wondering, "Why start now? Your life is half over!" or thinking, "If only I'd done that way back when..."
I hadn't realized how much this would affect me. Why bother running? The body's falling apart anyway. Why bother starting a career? Educating myself? Reaching for goals?
Smoke!
I'm trying to embrace today, struggling to improve, hoping that my best days are still ahead of me.
Do you ever feel this way?
