I make no excuses. I don’t even justify why anymore. I look back on my years, (I really think “my years” started after college) and realize when I was asked, “So, what do you do?” I never had an answer. I responded, “I work at an ad agency,” or “I work for a bank.” or “I write.” I never quite made it to be an A.E. or a banker, and I still struggle with committing words, “I’m a writer.”

How easy they have it – dentists, lawyers, accountants, because that is what they do. I didn’t reinvent myself, I just changed jobs. I had opportunities to seize newness and I took it. But I still can’t rid myself of angst when not being able to declare what it is I have been all these years and continue to be. Not being able to identify myself with a particular vocation shouldn’t suggest failure or anything less than being successful. I didn’t reinvent myself when I changed jobs, that would indicate permanence, that I was in the new invention for the long hall. Nothing is permanent. Instead, I look at it as being presented with a fork in the road, an opportunity, an open door to experience life in continuing to find my purpose.