Originally published August 4, 2008
After vacationing for the past couple weeks, I’m home in my default life, the one I participate in when we’re not traveling. I’m the first to admit it’s a great life, with little of the stresses I’ve encountered raising children and making ends meet and finding time to myself. Yet, there’s one thing I’ve noticed lately.
I have so many interests that it’s difficult to find time to work on any one of them with intensity. I love to crochet, read, practice piano, kayak, garden, work out, and write. All of these things could become the Number One Passion, if it weren’t for the others wanting equal time.
So I suspect I’ll never be Olympic quality in any of these passions, since I can’t find the single one I want to devote most of my free time to. I love them all.
Which suggests I’m a generalist, somebody who owns a smattering of information about a lot of different things rather than an exacting library of knowledge about one thing to the exclusion of others.
Truth is, I’ve always known this. It makes me feel conflicted at times, but it is never boring.
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