Follow your heart. Do what you love.
Easy to say, but to a gifted person, the knee-jerk reaction is…really? Follow my heart? Do what I love? Are you kidding me?
My heart says to write, to teach, to create better materials for my flute students, to be more present in my life, to homeschool with more intention, to volunteer without guilt, to be a better wife and mom, to quit putting off enjoyment until after the to-do list is done, to read more books, to take more walks, to take better care of myself, to be a better friend, to learn new skills, and to get more sleep so I can do all of that.
Do what I love, but from which area of my life? Yesterday on my own blog I wrote about the Venn diagram of my life; I am no one thing. When I teach flute, that is all I want to do and do it beyond the best of my ability. I want to study pedagogical techniques, refresh my memory on the different ways students learn, write new material for my students, create and build a fantastic studio of young flutists. But when I write, I want to shut the world out and create. Pour words onto the screen (never the page, I can’t read my own handwriting), tinker and tweak and attempt to capture emotions in simple sentences. As a homeschooler I desperately want to build the most creative lessons for my son, full of hands-on memorable experiences, specifically for the way he learns best. And that doesn’t even begin to cover what I want to do for me.
Life is an enormous buffet of choices and opportunities, and I have only a flimsy dessert plate. There is no way to do all I want to do, or experience all I want to experience. My heart says, “Follow me!” a thousand different directions, and I desperately want to do all that I love. It’s breathtaking, overwhelming, and depressing, all at the same time.
So never say follow your heart or do what you love to a gifted person. It’s just too much.