A little identity crisis

Now that I (force myself to) take some time off every week, I bumped into a new obstacle: I don’t have any hobbies. My hobby became a passion, and my passion is my everything, but who am I when I’m not painting?

Yep, I’m having a little identity crisis.

In learning that productivity is not what provides a human with it’s worth, I understand we are not what we do. I am not a painter. Or am I? Anyway, painting is not my full identity, I get that. I’m also a cat mom, a friend, a prolific napper, a sister, a student, a business owner. Does this mean that my identity is a collection of all these roles?

But what about my feelings, my memories, my dreams, my aspirations, my thoughts? In therapy I learned I am not my feelings. I am not my past or my coping mechanisms. I have choices. But who is that ‘I’ that can choose?

I just remembered why I didn’t finish my philosophy degree back in the nineties: my head is too small for this stuff.

Also: I overthink. So I decided to take up jogging again. A perfect activity to empty my mind. Just like painting.