I’ve been lost for some time. I’ve always had an overwhelming feeling that I am Fated For Something Great(TM), but I’ve never had that Aha! moment of being totally certain that X or Y is the One Thing I Am Destined to Do. And I’m good at a lot of things: there are plenty of things I could do if motivated and credentialed. I can teach religion or history, I have an aptitude for geography and meteorology, I am capable enough to practice law, I have enough of an inclination for instruments that I could play several if I just went and learned, I am a very capable cook, had I stuck with it I could handle computer programming, if I wanted to put up with the scratched hands I have the aptitude for auto mechanics, I can sculpt, carve wood and make furniture, and make jewelry. If I focused on any of these things seriously and properly accredited myself, I could perform them well enough to establish a career.

But none calls to me.

A friend told me I should write. He said that writing and writing alone is my primary talent. And he said this is because I have an artist’s soul.

I cringed at that one.

You see, I have equated “art” with “pretension” for some time. I get very annoyed with pagans, witches, and magicians who flaunt their “artist” credentials and drone on about incorporating their art with their magic in some grand project. This has even led me to not think of valid artists as “artists” if they’re not annoying and self absorbed. In my mind, people like Lupa are highly skilled craftsmen (uhhh, craftspersons?) and technicians. Anyone who perfects a technical craft is making art. One of the most beautiful examples I have seen of this was a a cook at a Pizza Hut who flicked his wrist and flipped a 12 inch pizza straight from the pan into the box. That’s art. Bloviating for 20 minutes about your “vision” isn’t.

But at any rate, I was told by a trusted mentor that I was an artist. But I don’t feel like one. So I’m lost.

I think it’s my past lives.

I don’t talk about past lives much, but I’ve got quite a few vivid memories (if they can be believed, which I’m not sure, but whether they’re real or not, the psychological impact is about the same). My last several lives have been in pretty rapid succession. I’m on my fourth lifetime since the late 1800s, and of those, this is the first one I’ve had where I haven’t killed anyone (yet), haven’t been in the military, and have lived longer than 25 years.

So here’s my theory. If I’m an artistic spirit, and I’ve spend the 80 of the last 120 years or so as a soldier, would that leave me feeling a little lost? When the past life that calls strongest to me is the one where I was a general in Rome, might that explain why I’m a little disoriented and can’t settle on an art project?


I like to write. I think of Ideas to write. But the sitting down is difficult, because there is Stuff that Must Be Done. The duty to others takes precedent. Orders first.

I’m open to ideas …


3 responses to “Lost

  1. I can relate to this 100%. I’ve never felt the ‘calling’ to one particular course, though I can do a lot of things well enough. Your thoughts on the word ‘artist’ really resonate too. Though I have been oil painting and am starting to do really well with it, I don’t want to call it “art” or call myself an “artist”. Rather, I call it “painting”.
    However, if you do find a way to find your way, let me in on it too.

  2. “Bloviating” is a good example of your wordcrafting skill.

    You mentioned Roman general. Caesar was a Roman general. A soldier who was an excellent writer and orator. A soldier who’s building projects included a calendar. A soldier with an amazing capacity at showmanship who enthralled the Empire with his charisma.

    Stop cringing, man! And stop trying to pigeonhole your sense of worth under a single occupational label. That’s an order, soldier!

  3. Pingback: Art | Blacklight Metaphysics

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