Identity Defined by Work

I was watching a Metallica concert on TV, and what I determined is that their identites are defined by what they do. Just like Favre. Their lives seem glamourous and full; after all, doing what one loves to do and getting paid for it seems like it would be an exciting thing.

When they leave their job, they still long to do their job because they enjoy it so much. Their identity is decided by their profession. Take away the job, and they become ordinary. Until they find another thing to do that defines them. Maybe I consider their enormous paychecks would be ample satisfaction and a nice cushion to fall on when there is no work. But if who I am is what I do, and all I did was work, and all I wanted to do was work, then spending the money isn’t going to bring the satisfaction that I imagine it could.

I, however, am not what I do; my jobs don’t define who I am. My jobs are just jobs. I therefore find my identity outside of my jobs; I become who I am when I leave work. I think this makes me somehow better off. Sure it would be nice to have some more cash, but until that happens I just have to keep getting by on what I make doing whatever it is I may do.

The bright side is there is still a better paying job out there somewhere, but where and what is a mystery. And I’m no longer entirely sure I want to enjoy my job, because once I left it, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.

rain

I like to write on rainy days
the clouds arrive with whites and grays
the sun does not reveal its gaze
to fantasies at play

Until the Story Ends song lyrics

How can I believe in minutes passed of which you teach a new day is simply out of reach?

How long before we know?

Rushing through these years, we make the rules up as we run.
Looking for the answers under scattered sun.

Until the story ends; until the hero wins.
Until the picture changes and the colors fade to gray.

On this ferris wheel, endless window sill.
Is it ever fun what cannot be undone?

How long before we know?

Can we change the past? Does it ever last? Is it even real?
How can it be until-

Until the story ends; until the hero wins.
Until the picture changes and the colors fade to gray.

Like the wind that brings the rain, the current ever-changing.
Fantasies can do you in or they can bring life-rearranging.
Make the rules up as we go; invent the things we'll never know.
Driven by the will to carry on
un...til-

Until the story ends; until the hero wins.
Until the picture changes and the colors rearrange.
We make our way to find a history within our mind;
the heroes of our day 'til colors fade to gray.