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Alright, I have no choice.

I finally have to accept the fact that I have a problem.  Actually, if I’m being honest, I’ve had this problem as long as I can remember.  However, by now, I had hoped it would be solved or that I would have simply grown out of it.

You see, unlike some (read: most) of the people I grew up with who seemed to have everything figured out, I never did.  While they knew from approximately eight years of age that they wanted to become a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher, a preacher, a writer, an artist, a pecan tree, or whatever, I was struggling with . . . acne, knock knees, and everything else.

While they pretended to be doctors, lawyers, teachers, preachers, writers, artists, etc., even during times reserved for play such as recess, I was trying to figure out where I fit in in the scheme of things.

While they seemed to eat and drink what they expected and accepted to be their life’s work (and have a damn good time of it), I was wondering if I would ever be chosen as a teammate and not just relegated to the team that was unlucky enough to get stuck with me.

While some of my peers were planning what high school, college, fraternity, and sorority they would join, I was struggling to understand slang along with wondering if I would ever speak publicly without stuttering.

While they were planning when they would marry and how many children they would have, I was still wanting and playing with Teddy bears and dolls.

Basically, where they had certainty and callings, I had distraction and confusion.  Some refer to this clarity as knowledge of their assignment in life.  And as I looked at them go about their callings, my question always was, when would I discover my own assignment?

I was normal, I guess.  I played house.  I pretended to have a family with children.  I pretended to have a spouse.  I pretended to be a doctor, a lawyer, a preacher, a teacher, a writer, an artist, etc. Sometimes, I even had fun.

But, none of the careers stuck with me… or maybe, I didn’t stick with any of them.  It seems that as quickly as I became interested in any subject, I became equally and just as quickly disinterested.  Why?

Why did this keep happening?  And where was that blinding certainty of action?

Maybe, if I had struggled through school or a particular subject, something would have jumped out at me.  However, I seemed to do just well enough in each subject without any real commitment that nothing ever screamed at me “do this, dummy!”

So, day after day (or year after year, I guess you could say), I was waiting for something in my life to stand out.  But alas, nothing ever did.  Ever.  So, I’m left envying people who have a clear calling.  I’m left wondering why I never received such a calling myself.

Perhaps my head is too hard or my hearing too weak.  Perhaps, I am ignoring my calling because it isn’t fancy or lucrative.  Perhaps, I need to meditate or pray harder.  I don’t really know.

What I do know is that something odd is happening.

All my friends who grew up with clear purpose and who followed their respective dreams from childhood keep soliciting my opinions, input, and advice regarding their lives, their children, their spouses, etc.  And, if that isn’t crazy enough, they all seem to value my humble opinion.

While I’m walking around frustrated with no real focus and with no clear idea of what to do with myself, my friends, the doctors, lawyers, teachers, preachers, writers, artists, etc. are all asking me (and often, exhausting me) with the weight of their problems.  What does it all mean?  What could it possibly mean?  A clue?

Can anybody hear me?