I started this journey of sudden unemployment induced total life change very gung-ho. I had lots and lots of things on my lists of to-do, to-try and to-pay the rent. Little by slowly those lists have gotten longer, shorter, refined, fine tuned.
In the middle of my white board I wrote: I AM A WRITER.
(please remind me of that at the end of this post)
How that was going to help pay the rent, I had no idea, but it is pretty much how I define myself. I don’t want to go back to nine to five office work. I’ve always said that my dream job, if I had a husband or a second income of any kind (defining the term ‘husband’ as a second income may have some bearing on my prolonged singlehood), would be as a receptionist in a small town veterinary clinic so I could spend my day with animals and the people who loved them. Of course, I’d live in that small town, with my second income husband in our small house with its big yard, view of the creek and mountains and our own collection of critters.
I’ve had one job interview in 6 weeks. (When I see it written there, 6 weeks, it takes some of the edge off. That’s not all that long to completely change your life.) The interview went so well I was offered my dream job. Managing a small town one person veterinary practice, helping him grow his business and he would, in turn, pay me very little, albeit more than most, and train me as a veterinary nurse.
So, why’ve I been crying all day? Why am I trying to find a way to rationalize saying no? This is where the rubber meets the road, time to put up or shut up, put my money where my mouth is, insert your own cliche here. If I say no, who am I?
I’ve been crying all day, on the phone with lots of friends, in the car, at home, crying into my dinner, talking it all out, listening when I can. Some people have encouraged me to take it, to at least give it a try. Others have listened and told me what they see when they look at me, what their experience has been like. I cried through all of it.
I heard that voice in my head that never has anything good to say, it’s a weight on my ankles and I spiraled down with it. I feel like I’ve lost faith, lost my vision, lost my conscious connection to that thing that gets you through the fear when you can’t figure out how to get through the fear. I feel like I’m totally alone, hopeless, helpless, aimless. It’s been an awful day, feeling like that all day.
That’s what it feels like.
The fact is, I was carried and passed from one loving ear to the next, all day, until I was done.
The day is over. I’m cried out, talked out & I’ll sleep like a baby. A full day of crying will do that for you. And I’ve got my conscious contact back. God doesn’t make my life easier, he/she is simply the strength I can tap into when I hit the rough patches. So, apparently, this is what walking through the fear feels like…I don’t like it, not one bit. But I can live through it.
I still don’t know how being a writer is going to help pay the rent, or if it will at all. Someone pointed out this was my first job offer not my only job offer. There are lots of good reasons to say yes and as many reasons to say no. I have a choice. Let me say that again so I can hear it too. I have a choice, and I have more than one dream.
we all have more than one dream. and then another. and another. we all dream of better things. chin up.
i know sandy already said this, but, you give me courage.
p.s. monday and thursdays are my favorite days of the week, which considering i barely know what day of the week it is anymore…
Bastard – thanks. I can remember that stuff when I talk to someone else, but it can be so hard to remember it when I talk to myself. I really need to stop talking to myself, at least out loud, in public….
Margaret –
That means a lot to me, writing is pretty isolating, but I do it to be heard. It’s good to know someone is listening…I miss seeing you, fyi
Hey Jodi, I’m sorry it’s hard for you right now. . . i’ve always felt that tears are healing and i respect the notion that you don’t shun your tears. one of my friends calls ’em liquid healing. it’s all about processing. . . hope you did sleep like a baby and will make the decision that’s best for you. see you this wkend?
i try real hard to not listen to the voices in my head. unless they tell me good things like, “forget that bill you have to pay jim, you need to buy a motorcycle”
Janet –
Liquid courage was so much easier than liquid healing….sigh. Those days are over though, so upwards and onwards and facing the fear, looking at dreams deferred and taking the risks. Ack. No beach for me till some time in September…
Bastard –
I second that emotion, the motorcycle voice deserves to be heard.
I’ve had a day or two or a few more than that lately. I khow how you feel. I am not unemployed but I am waitressing with a mind and a heart full of something more I want to do and I don’t know which way to go. I say I am an artist but I have not been able to paint anything for a couple months now. I say I want to go back to school but I am so scared of that too and get paralyzed when I need to be in mid-air. But the truth is I AM an artist and I see the world as an artist. And even tho those big canvasses aren’t being banged out at this moment, I see blueberries in milk as if they were pieces of nite time with milky stars in the center. I arrange flowers at work. I sit with my dying grandfather, who taught me all about art, and cut out pictures in magazines as I try to say my goodbyes to this great man in my life. I was born an artist and you were born a writer. We just are. And you just are a writer. If you weren’t a writer you wouldn’t be writing. You wouldn’t tell stories that tap into my emotions and paint pictures in my mind. You wouldn’t see the world in the way that you do if you weren’t a writer. You will always be a writer whether or not it pays the bills. And that is something I am learnig to love and understand. I don’t need a job being an artist. I just need art. I need to be creative. I need to be this creative person I have always been and embody and live it in my day to day. We are multi-dimensional people who love and can do more than one thing. Which leads me to wanting to go back to school. And being in the place that we are in and the places we have been make me so grateful that I can actually love and do more than one thing. You have what it takes to do whatever you want to do. You have the primary inner qualities and tools that will take you to the next place. Where you go is secondary and also exactly where you need to be. So long as you take you- the strong, loving, intelligent incredible faithful woman you are- with you everything will be just right. You will know what is right. You don’t have to decide right now. And what is so wonderful is that you have options and probably more to come. You have choices to make and choices that you care about and that are important to you. What a gift. I used to not give a fuck which direction I went. I didn’t want or care. You just care so much. Because you love so much and it will come to you. Listen to your gut. I always say that god is your gut. Listen closely and the answer may not come today or in another six weeks but it will. And in the mean time, write and play with your farm animals and be Jodi and be mezmerized by the amazing woman you are. Because you are and you will be just fine. I love you…
Amy –
I’m speechless. Doesn’t happen often. Thanks for the support and the reminders that we are not how we make our money.
I heard this one yesterday:
The antidote to fear is curiosity.
You are endlessly curious, it’s a new tool to use in these new times.
I heard that phrase again this morning. I’d always heard that the antidote to fear is faith, but curiosity seems a lot more accessible. Faith has a tendency to be a little shy now and then.