Never before has a year been so distinct. Never before have I ever learned so much in such a little time. Never before have I felt both incredible loss and great joy at one time.
One year ago today was my first day being unemployed. I relished in the freedom knowing I would be OK for another 6 months with grand dreams of the accomplishments I had set for myself.
I was prepared, or so I thought, to redo my house, cleaning all those little spots, emptying out my lost years of junk; writing a novel to suit my artistic inspiration, with a hateable lead character that others would see deeper into, and Lily Taylor would love it and make it into an indie sensation; finish my cookbook to get me my own show on the Food Network, right next to my beloved Tyler Florence; lose all this extra weight that has hindered me from true self-love for most of my life; and knit and sew like any domesticated stay-at home wifey out there.
The first month I felt wonderful. In charge and loving my freedom, I hung out with other friends who either freelanced or were also unemployed. I still woke up early, went to the gym daily, had coffee with my neighbor from time to time, and wrote for an hour a day. It was the pressure of these fine goals that stabbed my joy right in the heart.
I had such a stressful timeline and came from a world of stress, that to relax and let it flow was foreign to me. I was hard on myself wanting it all and wanting it right now. I teased myself with little bits of each delight, but never felt satiated. I was a mess.
It wasn’t being free that drew me to insanity. It was that I wasn’t ready. Like an old lover that has so many qualities you want, but it just isn’t the time for them, I was involved in a losing situation. My relationship with my freedom choked me. After just 3 months, I began to worry about what would happen if I didn’t find a job? But I didn’t want one just yet. I liked the one-night-stand idea I was having with work. Volunteering, doing a massage or two here and there kept me feeling useful, even babysitting, but I was still so nervous about being the one in charge.
Tension and anxiety flourished as I forgot the mantra “It’s about the WOWs not the Hows”. I was in control or so I thought and I just couldn’t let go and let God, per se.
Now that I have a job and get up each morning to go put in my eight hours, I somewhat regret the wasted time. Yet, I know deep down none of it was wasted. I learned a lot about myself. Like that old boyfriend, he was a nice fit for the time, taught me a lot, but now I want something better. I changed.
A year ago I was stuck on being a great novelist, well maybe I will just be a good blogger and poet. My cookbook beckoned me to be written, that is still in the works, but developing even further. I had scheduled a month to have my house cleaned of all its memories, now I am moving slowly getting rid of 20 years of crap. I was hard on myself to achieve and succeed, now I trust myself to be OK. And the Universe will help. I used to look at spiritual guides as my yardstick to success, they now are tools for me to develop into who I am.
I have to admit, though I loved the freedom of being at home and on my own schedule, I missed the human contact. I have met some wonderful people where I work now and the connections are on a deeper level. We are sharing our understandings of life helping one another grow.
One day, not too far off, I will have exactly what I want. It will be on my own terms though.
One year ago today was my first day being unemployed. I relished in the freedom knowing I would be OK for another 6 months with grand dreams of the accomplishments I had set for myself.
I was prepared, or so I thought, to redo my house, cleaning all those little spots, emptying out my lost years of junk; writing a novel to suit my artistic inspiration, with a hateable lead character that others would see deeper into, and Lily Taylor would love it and make it into an indie sensation; finish my cookbook to get me my own show on the Food Network, right next to my beloved Tyler Florence; lose all this extra weight that has hindered me from true self-love for most of my life; and knit and sew like any domesticated stay-at home wifey out there.
The first month I felt wonderful. In charge and loving my freedom, I hung out with other friends who either freelanced or were also unemployed. I still woke up early, went to the gym daily, had coffee with my neighbor from time to time, and wrote for an hour a day. It was the pressure of these fine goals that stabbed my joy right in the heart.
I had such a stressful timeline and came from a world of stress, that to relax and let it flow was foreign to me. I was hard on myself wanting it all and wanting it right now. I teased myself with little bits of each delight, but never felt satiated. I was a mess.
It wasn’t being free that drew me to insanity. It was that I wasn’t ready. Like an old lover that has so many qualities you want, but it just isn’t the time for them, I was involved in a losing situation. My relationship with my freedom choked me. After just 3 months, I began to worry about what would happen if I didn’t find a job? But I didn’t want one just yet. I liked the one-night-stand idea I was having with work. Volunteering, doing a massage or two here and there kept me feeling useful, even babysitting, but I was still so nervous about being the one in charge.
Tension and anxiety flourished as I forgot the mantra “It’s about the WOWs not the Hows”. I was in control or so I thought and I just couldn’t let go and let God, per se.
Now that I have a job and get up each morning to go put in my eight hours, I somewhat regret the wasted time. Yet, I know deep down none of it was wasted. I learned a lot about myself. Like that old boyfriend, he was a nice fit for the time, taught me a lot, but now I want something better. I changed.
A year ago I was stuck on being a great novelist, well maybe I will just be a good blogger and poet. My cookbook beckoned me to be written, that is still in the works, but developing even further. I had scheduled a month to have my house cleaned of all its memories, now I am moving slowly getting rid of 20 years of crap. I was hard on myself to achieve and succeed, now I trust myself to be OK. And the Universe will help. I used to look at spiritual guides as my yardstick to success, they now are tools for me to develop into who I am.
I have to admit, though I loved the freedom of being at home and on my own schedule, I missed the human contact. I have met some wonderful people where I work now and the connections are on a deeper level. We are sharing our understandings of life helping one another grow.
One day, not too far off, I will have exactly what I want. It will be on my own terms though.
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