I Am a Renaissance

I write, but I don't feel like what I imagine a writer feels like.
I play the harp and I sing, but I don't feel like what I imagine a musician or singer feels like.
I am artsy. I do art. My home is covered in evidence of that, but I don't feel like what I imagine an artist feels like.

I'm not sure what it is, lack of commitment, lack of inspiration, or simply a lack of personal acknowledgment?

What makes a person assume the identity of what they do as who they are?

I am a writer.
I am an artist.
I am a musician.

I garden.
I cook.
I bake.
I sew.
I crochet.

I have had piano lessons, singing lessons, harp lessons, gardening lessons, painting lessons, Reiki lessons, Aikido lessons. I have children and I am their primary educational overseer. We utilize aromatherapy, massage therapy, and holistic health concepts. We raise goats, chickens, dogs, cats, rabbits, aquarium critters, and a hamster. We tap Maple trees, tend beehives, make soap and candles. We dry herbs for a variety of uses, and make tinctures. We make wine. I don't do these things alone, but I am involved in all of them to varying degrees.

Is it that I am just doing too many things? I certainly don't do them all every day, but everyday I am doing at least one of them.

Perhaps I am having a hard time with singular labels because I am a renaissance.