Waiting for divine intervention

I warn you, this will not be the last time I circle around this topic...

I went to a Grey Cup party this afternoon with a friend (great game btw, even if you're like me and couldn't care less about football). It was a lovely afternoon, but I was very much reminded of how lost I am. I spend my days having repetitive surface conversations with strangers. But today I sat in a room of people, and for the first time in weeks I was aware of how unique my life is. I have become so comfortable in my alter ego, I falter when asked my name. I have always been outgoing and social, yet I find myself not wanting to talk, not wanting to be social, not wanting to participate in society. I don't want to explain myself, or bother to get to know people I won’t see again. I hesitated to answer such simple questions because it sounds so bizarre.

"Where do you live?"
... um... well... everything I own is in storage, in too many different cities, and I'm only ever 'home' for a couple weeks at a time. I don't live there, I don't work there...

"How long are you in town?"
a week.
"When are you back in town"
... two months? three months... not really sure.


Perhaps no one considers their life normal, but mine is certainly nothing even resembling a normal life. I have become so detached from the day-to-day reality where people have a social group of friends, careers, weekends off, a loving partner to share their day with, families, and the ability to make plans in advance.

I'm lost. I'm confused, and I'm wandering, waiting, wishing for some divine intervention to point me in the right direction. I want a meaningful and fulfilling career. I want to make a difference... I want something. I have absolutely NO idea what I want to do. A year ago I thought I wanted to be a doctor. But the world ended, and everything changed... What do you do after the universe implodes?

History of my ‘adult’ life... well…

Art school. diploma in visual art, mostly photography, used it as my minor.
Bachelor of Arts. liberal studies major. Wrote a lot, read a lot, debated a lot. Wandered around Italy for a few weeks, wrote more essays.
Worked as a photographer for many years, in and out of school.
Debated becoming a paramedic. Decided no.
Worked as an industrial paramedic.
Decided I should go to medical school... went back to school for science.
Dropped school to move home and suffered in a daze as I watched over my best-friend as he died of cancer...
Went back to photography.
In the haze of grief and survival I started dancing.

I feel weak admitting my lack of direction. I’m lost. Sure, I'm paying off my undergrad and saving for whatever life has yet to reveal to me. I hope I find direction soon. I'm having fun and learning an incredible amount about myself and human nature... but homeless, aimless, wandering feels so... well... aimless.

Oh vast universe... what is my purpose?






(the dancer from the fire is rumoured to have made it home alive, but other lives have been lost in the fire. prayers.)