Identity Crisis

Every time I walk in to this significant place that stretches my imagination, there is an overwhelming sense of possibilities that can and will be entertained by me. I look ahead to the wall that contains the words that have been ingrained in my mind this past week. “Fuel Your Story,” it reads. “Fuel my story,” I tell myself each time I sit down at the table that sits in the far corner of the shop facing this inspirational, yet simple wall. The table that I pray no one is sitting at each time I walk in. The table I have spent hours dreaming, writing, reading, and researching at. The table that is angled so I can see people walking in as well as look out into the shop as people meet friends, colleagues, and family for coffee and baristas laughing with each other enjoying the work they are so incredibly good at. You can call me creepy, I’m okay with that. Black Rock Coffee Bar has become my home away from home the past 10 days. Yes, I have gotten laughs and seen eyes roll when I talk about my time at this coffee shop. Why is this place so significant to me? And why will 2018 consist of me spending so much more time in here? Well, it fuels my story.

An identity crisis is a precarious situation. We seek to understand who we are and whether you are a teenager, a college student, a mother, a father, a retired old man, we deal with identity in every stage of life. What we do defines us, what we believe defines us, who we hang out with defines us, our identities are constantly changing as our lives continue to change in different seasons. I encountered an identity crisis in 2017. It was one of the best years, but also one of the worst years. What I came to realize as 2017 was coming to a close was that I had forgotten how to live life outside of my job. I am damn good at my job, and no, I don’t mean that in an arrogant way, I mean that because I give it everything I have, by my choice and my choice only. You cannot give every part of your life 100 percent. You just can’t. I love my job, but I also love other things such as my husband, friends, journaling, creative writing, blogging, reading novels that take me on adventures, traveling to new places, meeting with people without an agenda, and I love Jesus. The things I love were lost in 2017.

“Fuel my story,” I said as I opened a brand new journal and started to scribble away at whatever thoughts needed to come out. The things that fueled my story were non existent in my life. My story has been stagnant for some time. My story was a paragraph, not a novel. I was fueling it with one thing, instead of the many things that make me who I am. Sometimes it is places, such as Black Rock Coffee Bar, that slap you in the face to remind you of who you are. This place has taken me back to the basics of who I am. It has fueled my story and will continue to fuel my story. Everyone has a story and our stories are continually changing, but there are seasons where our stories will be a little lost, a little broken, and a little stagnant. Embrace those seasons, recognize where you are at, and then push past it and find what fuels your story. Your story is something to be shared and to be enjoyed. 2018, here’s to adventuring more with my husband, writing a novel that will take people on an adventure, meeting with friends with no agenda, and loving Jesus for me and not my job. Fuel your story with the things that make you who you are.

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