Yesterday I tweeted today about a blog that I happen to stalk secretly called Sea of Shoes. It’s written by an exceptionally stylish teenager (I think she’s 18. Maybe 19? Aw fuckit) named Jane. Jane is a lover of fashion and other beautiful things and does a outstanding job at capturing the people, places and things that she loves in photos. Often her posts contain little by way of writing but the image-heavy way she opts to express her passion tells you everything you need to know. The blog is beautiful and inspiring, much like the author.
It also makes me feel somewhat inadequate, and I will tell you why.
I kind of wish there was something in my life that I was THAT passionate about. Sometimes I want for that spark that would lead me to something that I could feel satisfied and content in devoting my time, maybe my life, to exploring and cultivating a fine taste for. It must feel so liberating to be able to have some sort of thing in your life that you can create worlds around and chart paths from. I don’t have anything like that.
Is that weird?
Don’t get me wrong, there are things in my life that I would definitely say that I’m passionate about, but there’s no one all-encompassing thing. I lack… purpose? That’s why the universe was granted a blog about a 20-something wannabe professional angsting her way through a quarter-life crisis instead of something a little more specific.
Sorry about that by the way.
All of this having been rambled, I’ve never really considered this a bad thing. I mean, let’s be real – for the most part I’ll fight the idea of being labelled or pigeon-holed based on my interests.
Just because I like dogs does not make me a crazy dog lady! GEEZE!
Still, as I get older, I’m starting to notice that a lot of people seem to be settling into their thing and sometimes I wonder if I’m missing out due to my inability to commit to any one thing.
Holy damn, I’m just rambling here.
Your thoughts – I’d like to hear them
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