Any minute now, my ship is coming in.

I think it's easy for people to assume that I've got it all together, especially when it comes to my career. Here I am, at 27, in the position I considered my "career goal" just months ago. I've made this somewhat miraculous professional ascent. I appear to be successful and driven. To have set goals and acheived them. To be at the top of my game, a rising star.

(Sigh.) But, I have to admit, I still have NO idea what I really want to do with my life. I'm walking this journalism path. I chose it. I've found satisfaction in it. But I'm frequently distracted by other desires of my heart.

In college, I had difficulty narrowing my interests to just two majors. I ultimately chose Art and Communication, but I could have easily studied (and loved) English, Film, Global Studies, Philosophy, Political Science, Sociology, or Theology. I think what Art and Communication offered was the opportunity to explore all areas of life within a defined medium: The subject matter and scope of my art and my writing was unlimited. Therefore I wasn't really limiting myself at all.

Likewise, I cannot accept that journalism is my sole career path. As soon as I got my foot in the door, I was thinking of the next adventure. Maybe I want to be an author, I thought. Or a script writer. Or get a graduate degree and teach. Or throw it all out the window and get a mindless, no-stress job that will allow me ample time to travel and serve those in need.

It's not about not wanting to work. It's me stuggling to reconcile what I do with what I believe. I have a desire to do something meaningful, and I'm not convinced that what I'm doing right now is meaningful to anyone. I sit in an office all day making sure the editors at my magazine meet their deadlines, routing pages through production, and running meetings. I think I'm good at the work, but I don't go to bed at night feeling like I've made a difference in the world.

Maybe I'm naive, but I want what I do to mean something to more than just myself.