As I spent time over-analyzing myself earlier today {too bad I can’t figure out how to make a career out of self-analysis…I’d be rich}, I realized that I am in the midst of a mini identity crisis. With so much new, and so little old, I am struggling to pinpoint who I am, what I think, and how to share this journey with you.
In the most simplest terms, I am in the process of discovering what remains…of me.
Without my precious pup, the church that restored my faith in God and community, the comfortable routines that filled my Nashville existence, the job and the company that I knew like the back of my hand, the conferences where I felt known and respected, and the cast of kids that I adored spoiling rotten, I feel a little lost, a little timid, and a lot unsure.
Answering questions as simple as “who are you?” and “what are you doing in Southern California?” leave me perplexed and stumbling to find words. But maybe, just maybe, that is how it should be? Maybe I don’t need to search for the answers, maybe I need to live my way into the answers?
“Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the question themselves, as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, some day far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
Are you good at loving the questions? Or are you like me, searching through every nook and cranny for answers?
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