“The purpose of life, after all, is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experiences.” -Eleanor Roosevelt

Here's the thing:  I love the infinite possibility of life.  I have an actual list of things I want to do before I die, and the items range from learning to drive a stick shift, to rock climbing, to kissing Dave Grohl (even the cheek will do).  Right now, my passions include writing, studying my genealogy, learning Polish, and running.  This, in addition to having several jobs.  And it keeps me occupied and engaged.

But sometimes I worry that I want to do too many things, and I want to do them all now.  If I sit down with that book, I can't go for a run.  I don't have time to re-connect with the piano and learn to speak Polish.  I've been planning my move to Poland, reading about the different regions, so I can decide where to apply for jobs, and I've left off on my genealogy research.  Which I'd like to keep up, not only because it's interesting, but because it may mean EU citizenship for me if I can prove I'm really Polish.  I want to read all the books I've got lying around here, because I can't take them all with me in my luggage.  But I want to sit up all night watching movies with my little brother before I go, too. 

I like having options, I like jumping from one thing to the next.  But am I preventing myself from ever doing anything fully?  I guess it's irrelevant.  I don't think that's ever going to completely change about me.  I'm always miserable when I try to confine myself.  Maybe a bit more discipline and dedication is needed, but if I beat my interests down until they become something other than the thing I started out loving, what was the point?