There is no single passion or skill that overarches everything else. And I’m not saying that in a “I’m secretly great at everything” way—I’m not. I’m sufficient at a lot of things, but rarely exceptional at one.
I sew, but my lines are crooked and you can still see the pencil marks. I paint the art in our living room, but everything is abstract because I can’t really do detail. I cook, but there is almost always at least one part of the meal that is slightly over-salted. But at a glance, it all kind of works. It looks like I sewed the skirt I’m wearing, made dinner from scratch, and painted the art hanging in my living room.
And then comes the comforting and haunting reminder all at the same time: Jack of all trades, master of none.
It feels like a phrase that finally puts words to something I couldn’t quite explain before. In some ways it’s comforting—like there’s a category for me, like I make sense.
But that doesn’t take away the voice in the back of my head that reminds me I will never be the one winning the award for a single accomplishment, or the person someone calls when they need the expert or the problem solved completely.
Because when you zoom out and think about life in a more practical way—jobs, direction, identity—it starts to feel less like a cute descriptor and more like a question mark. I can do a lot of things halfway well, but there will always be someone else who can do one thing really, really well. And then you start to wonder what that means for you.
Why would someone choose “making do,” when someone else can fully do?
Like floating in the sea, being carried wherever the current takes you. Sometimes that feels freeing—you can drift and end up somewhere unexpected. Other times it feels a little lonely, like there is nothing anchoring you to one place long enough to call it home.
But then I remember, we do not get the luxury of 24/7 calm waters. The storms will come.
And when things go south and you feel as if you’re drowning, I can be sufficient. It won’t be perfect, and we might still need to call in professionals when all is said and done. But we survived the storm. And, that’s more than enough for me.