I had a double major in psychology and anthropology, but I was also interested in foreign languages and history. And in literature. And philosophy. Oh, and theology, music, astronomy, and dance. I took classes in the geography of Europe and Japanese religion and environmental science and piano, racking up credits like there was no tomorrow.
Bob was one of those people who knew exactly what he wanted to do: He was on the straight track to teach high school–no doubt, no hesitation. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, too: Everything. Travel, learn foreign languages, write books, teach college, do yoga, ride horses, live in a monastery. Bob didn’t get that, and didn’t like it. He kept saying I was just going to end up a “jill of all trades and master of none,” which I found humiliating and infuriating. Looking back, I think my reaction may have come out of fear that there was something wrong with having so many interests, and maybe his reaction came out of fear that I would go off and follow my bliss, rather than live happily ever after with him in the Bay Area. He was right. I moved away–very far away, to Japan–and never came back.
There are people in the world who need to follow clear, direct, and narrow paths. Society loves those people and rewards them. Guidance counselors try to make people become them. If you’re not one of them, you’re often considered childish, confused, or lazy. But, according to Margaret Lobenstine, you’re none of those things. You’re a Renaissance Soul.
Lobenstine is a life and career coach who focuses on us out-of-step types who thrive on variety, have a wide and ever-changing array of interests, and are happier facing interesting challenges than climbing the career ladder. If you’ve ever been made to feel like a loser because there are so many things you want to do or learn, her book, The Renaissance Soul: Life Design for People with Too Many Passions to Pick Just One, will feel like a cool glass of water on a hot day. (Ironically, I discovered her book while seaerching for something on the history of the Renaissance, one of my current interests.)
She starts by making it clear that there is nothing wrong with you–her list of successful Renaissance Souls (Ben Franklin, Florence Nightingale, George Washington Carver, and Winston Churchill, among others) is enough to make you relize you’re in good company. Even more useful is a section on the common problems Renaissance Souls face–from impatient spouses to critical parents to enormous self-doubt. She goes on to provide some practical solutions to the problems of being a Renaissance Soul, such as how to actually do all the stuff you want to do without driving yourself crazy, and that ubiquitous bugaboo: earning a living.
Renaissance Soul is a self-help book, which means it’s full of quizzes, lists, and anecdotes about Lobenstine’s coaching clients, and can be read in about an hour. I’m not generally a fan of the self-help genre–I always wonder if such books provide lasting help or just make people feel better for the moment–and I can’t vouch for the long-term effectiveness of the techniques Lobenstine suggests. But over all, I think Renaissance Soul is a great resource, and I’m glad someone out there is writing about this.
Forty years after we broke up, I’m pleased to say Bob fulfilled his life’s dreams. He stayed in the Bay Area, had a long, successful teaching career, married, and raised two sons. And me? I followed my kaleidoscope of interests all over the world. And I still am. Look at me, off studying recorder in Italy. I somehow made it work, but how much easier it would have been if Lobenstine’s book had exised back when I was first venturing out.
How I wish there were a positive support group for us Renaissance Souls. I’ve got to go to the library and get this book.
I thought of you when I read this book. Yes, we need a support group.