Midlife crisis

Woo boy.  Although "crisis" seems a little melodramatic to me.  And "midlife" suggests I will live to be 100.  Not impossible but the odds are against me.
Who do I want to be?  Who am I really, inside?  How much am I not being authentic?  The world is my oyster and I don't know what the pearl looks like, for me.  I've just lived my life, not really steering the ship.  I know now that God is in real control of my life, but he isn't into telling me what to do.  James MacDonald says that God gives us each the really big box of crayons (choices in life) and does not sit there waiting for us to pick the one right crayon to use.  He gives us the whole box so that we can use them in any way we see fit (free will) and often delights in the various ways we take off.  We are made in His image and he is creative and imaginative and inventive and rule-bending (in all ways but one-SIN).  He created sunsets and dodo birds and jellyfish and dogs and pine trees and protozoa and Mars and...
So.  Let's start really basic.  Am I visual, aural, active, what?  Would I rather see something, hear something, smell something, taste something or do something?
Its a little like Gary Chapman's five love languages.  I've pondered that list many times and it just seems like I don't really have a strong preference.
What makes me happy?  Practically nothing, to tell the truth.  That's where the title comes in!  So what gives me joy?  I love routine and I like surprises (mostly).  I look forward all week to my Saturday morning routine.  Different in detail every week but similar.  I don't know if that's a red herring, though, because of the whole title thing again and maybe I just have such a pathetic life that even the farmer's market, Salvation Army and Hobby Lobby are just barely above such a low plateau!  Kidding-I think...