When I grow up

Last night, the Friday night knitters and some other creative types got together for an Idea Party. We listened to one of Barbara Sher's audio programs. We did the exercises, and talked about the results.

I enjoyed the evening, but I didn't learn anything earth-shattering about myself. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. I know what sort of work situation I like to be in, though - with a small group of intelligent, outgoing people who can get things done and laugh when it is over. I am blessed be working on a team like that now, and I still have a lot of contact with my former fun team, too.

Since everyone at the party had creative aspirations, it was no surprise that they all wanted to find ways to be more creative - spend more time pursuing their interests, and getting more recognition for them. I can buy the "spending more time" part (hmm, would I rather knit or do payroll?) And every time I think about NaNoWriMo, I get envious of those who are able to write readable fiction. But thanks to The Piker Press I have had an outlet for whatever creative tchotchkes I come up with, and a small but admiring throng of interesting people to pal around with. Alex even tapped in to my then-unvoiced desire to be Sylvia Beach, and made me poetry editor, so I get to troll for new talent and be a teacher, too.

I may not have everything I sometimes think I want, but just about everything I have makes me happy and fulfilled. So why would I even want to grow up?