Doing what you love

With the new, and better year (I hope) underway, I’ve been having deep thoughts. Three separate conversations in the last week have made me wonder if I’m receiving some sort of sign as to what to do with my life.

The first conversation was with my brother, who also had been doing some soul searching as to his job. He finally made the decision to stay put because he really wants to focus on his friends and family this year and he’s decided the purpose in his life is not really all about what job he does. He wants his happiness to come from his life, not his work, though he’s not really unhappy with his work, just sort of bored, like me.

Another thought that came from conversations with two work-related people is that you should do what you love and the money will follow. That’s a nice idea, but a little harder to accomplish from my perspective. These people of course have already made their money so they have the freedom to say money isn’t important, still I do understand the sentiment.

That got me to thinking about what do I love, what would I love to do for the rest of my life that would be fiscally viable as well as personally fulfilling. You know what? I’m ashamed to say I don’t know what I would do. Sit around writing essays and blogs and commenting on everything that caught my attention, which could be fun. I think it would be fun to be a book editor or to open an art gallery.

Then there are coloring books, you know, when you look at the coloring books out there I really think people who don’t really color make those things. I wonder how you get into the coloring book publishing industry? I could totally kick ass at that. There’d be coloring books for adults, no not porno coloring, though I guess that too could be a market, but more interesting coloring books. Most of those out there now are either spin offs of cartoons, no creativity there, or packed with word searches and mazes, which do not belong in a coloring book.

Perhaps though, I’m a freak of nature and am the only adult out there who likes to color, but I know I’m not, one of my aunts gets just as excited over a new box of crayons as I do. Maybe we’re the only two adults. Crayola, not those Rose Art or other knockoffs. The Girl got me one of my favorite gifts this year—the mega box of Crayolas, 120 crayons and a giant coloring book (plus the fuzzy pink slippers).
So, despite my age I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know it’s not what I’m doing now.