For the past 25 years, I have used the excuse "I am still young" to justify ignoring the big question that will ultimately define my life. When I was 5, the question was "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Even the biggest slacker knows that you have to come up with something so that people don't label you a pariah, but for those of us that really have scattered interests and diverse talents, this question will ultimately be our nemesis. For me, I have been sure of what I wanted to be many times in my life. First, I wanted to be a dancer, then an actress, then a clown (I had my eye on the Barnum&Bailey Clown College for at least 6 months). I grew out of my entertainment phase around aged 10, when after being complimented enough on my math skills, I decided to try something a little less expected: nuclear physicist. Whatever that is! Once I had arrived in high school and had forgotten my desire to be the first woman to play in the Major League, I began to pursue each whim with the ephemeral ardor that only an Aries can know:

Principal oboist of the Philadelphia Orchestra, world-renowned oboe soloist, medical researcher who finds the cause and cure of Multiple Sclerosis, poet, astrologer and spiritual advisor, filmmaker, neurosurgeon, family practioner, owner of my own PR firm, science writer, music critic, DJ, composer, idle wanderer and world traveler working menial jobs to pay my way, political activist against everyone and everything, diplomat, professor with my research in how music is used by social movements, videographer, rock star, cultural commentator, lawyer, freelance writer, trophy wife, event planner, teen novel author, bartender, tour guide, elementary school teacher...

This is a basically chronological list, although many of these ideas have been recurrent, particularly music critic, rock star, and idle wanderer. A lot of them were eliminated for one reason or another, after having given a valiant effort. My reluctance to make up my mind has always been an esthetic annoyance with occasional existential flair-ups, but nothing quite like what I have been experiencing the last month or so. As modernity has been pretty successful at basing identity around the way in which one make's money (or at least wishes to make money), I have been floundering since I arrived in France with nothing to do. At first I continued with the music journalist schtick, and while I still am waiting to be paid for a lot of my work (ahem, NY Press...), I haven't had anything published since November. Calling myself a student while certainly accurate is not satisfying as I am not working toward a specific degree. Plus it makes me feel like I am 19 again (or younger). Here is the issue at hand:

I am nothing.

I am nothing right now. And there are some times that I envy those that are something, no matter how banal that something might be. And there are other times when I look at these people smugly, thinking how lucky I am that I am free of occupational restrictions.

But as my 25th birthday comes flying around the corner, I am beginning to think my time for reflection is running out. Although I am economically frugal, I have been spending my youth and liberty with abandon. It is time to get a plan. So this is what I have been wrestling with for the past 5 (sleepless) days--and why I haven't been posting so much. The truth is that my ideas for a life plan have always been pretty superficial and this is because I am terrified of the issues that form the base of choosing an occupation. In the past it was enough just to pick something that seemed impressive, whether on an intellectual or artistic plane, but that hid the real issues. What is important to me? Money? Status? The opinion of others? Social milieu? Family? Time? Creativity? Responsibility? Helping the world? Helping myself? Helping those I love? What does living the good life mean to me? What are my values and what is the best way to integrate them into a life that I will be proud of?

I have been suffering from severe anxiety at the thought of having to choose something to do with my life, mostly because, for all of the abstract thinking I do, I have never been brave enough to really look inward. Despite all of my meditating and mind-expanding, I never actually went inside. But my internal journey began, like most things, not out of desire, but out of desperation. I need to find a way to stay in France and I want this reason to be valid and useful and the beginning of something bigger. Coming to France, while the realization certainly of one dream, and a step in my relationship with Stephane, is not an end. It is the most awesome of beginnings.

I am resorting to some Bloom's Taxonomy bullshit (that's for all you Project Challenge people out there!), trying to figure out my criteria for life and how best to fulfill them. I am fleshing out all the options I can think of. I am getting closer to an answer. I know there will always be an element of the random in my life...I have always loved that aspect of how my life goes, but I am tired of reacting instead of acting.

It is time to mold the chaos of the past 25 years into a base of experience and knowledge that allows me to move forward. All this swirling around in circles is making me nauseous.