WHO THE HELL AM I AND WHAT WILL I DO WITH MY LIFE?

I’m pacing. I’m jumpy, unable to settle down. I want to do something and don’t know what. I would like to write but my head is empty. The guy is coming to fix my bathroom but that is not for another 45 minutes. What do I do in the meantime? This is how my days go, little or no direction, unless I make one up.

Today feels a little different and I’m not sure why. I force myself to sit down at the computer hoping can allow something, anything, to come into my head. “Just write,” I tell myself, “it doesn’t matter what.” The two words that come to me are startling. Nothing and enough.

It’s not like I’ve done nothing with my life, it just feels that way. I have three grown children, and two divorces. But it never seems to be enough. I had a modest career as an opera singer and I did get to sing in major opera houses and with almost all of the prestigious names in the business. I sang major roles with all of the smaller opera companies in New York. I loved the singing and even liked doing the smaller roles but wished they were bigger. Yes, I know ego, ego and more ego.

Then I established an office as an agent for opera singers and relevant personnel. I had a lovely group of talented young singers but grew to hate the business because also was not satisfying. I turned it over to a woman I knew who was interested.

I moved on to the next career which was singing and acting as ship’s hostess on cruise ships. At least I was back doing something I loved.That lasted for a few years. I relished the glamour; the gowns every night, the caviar and turtle soup, free use of the beauty shop, and free drinks. Who could ask for more? But life there was like a fantasy. I missed my family and walked away from it. I grew to realize that I needed to have my feet on the ground.

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR MORE

Have you ever felt that way? At odds with yourself not knowing what you wanted to do or who you wanted to be?

ANXIOUS FRUSTRATED I’M NEVER ENOUGH OPERA WRITING

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