Sometimes life gets so chaotic that we forget to do the things that bring us back to center. As a result, I haven’t written in months. While my blog was silent, my head was screaming with excitement, confusion, optimism, and frustration. I took a job, then left it for ethical reasons: mainly I have ethics, they did not. Jumpsuits tend to give me a wicked case of camel toe and the job I had was going to land me wearing an orange one in Club Fed. Bill had been expressing interest in moving closer to his family in the Midwest so I scaled back my job search and focused instead on some self exploration/career counseling that I hoped would help me find the best fit for my next career. Career counseling, for the uninformed, is a lie. There is no magical formula that will tell you what job you “should” be doing. Instead, it’s a ruse to get you to go to therapy. Group therapy. For six weeks, six hours a day, and $600 (a big hit if you’re unemployed) you can choose to cross your arms and balk at each assignment, or you can elect to fall into The Process, bare your soul, explore the nooks and crannies of your psyche that drive your motivation and your needs. I chose the latter. It’s the equivalent of three YEARS of therapy spanned over six Saturdays. It was exhausting – there was no way I could have worked during this process. I cried so many tears I would get dehydration headaches; I learned about my need for autonomy, an intense drive to be allowed to be myself; I fought with myself, my old habits and negative self-talk clashed with deeply held truths and aspirations. Somewhere in this process, I discovered joy. This is the most difficult time in my life – I am unemployed, running out of savings, have an uncertain relationship – and I am still happy. Guess what? Happy people are highly employable. Bill got his Midwest dream job. We’ve been preparing his home for sale, purging the crap that inevitably accumulates in home ownership, and moving my things to my father’s house. Bill is going alone, and I will be heading back to my hometown to work on myself some more. I can only hope that some time apart will bring us closer: our communication (thanks to my “career counseling”) has been great, and our relationship is the strongest it has ever been. I have changed radically in a short period of time and that change, while good, is scary. I truly don’t know how he stuck by me over the last three years. I was such a broken soul; I was depressed, angry, and generally not fun. I did a poor job of conveying my love for him to him and he often felt alone in our relationship. Bill is also facing a ton of change and needs to be able to focus solely on getting settled in a new city and his career. This sucks, but his choice it not only the right one, it is the only one. Distance will either make us or break us, yet I am cautiously optimistic that I will be moving eastward for my birthday. I want to work for myself. Entrepreneurship is a big scary world, like setting sea with only one’s internal compass as a guide, but it is my calling. I’m building an e-commerce website called Crapsicles that retails customizable empathy centered care packages. Our true products: communication and connection. We will reinforce bonds, a sense of belonging, and promote the connection of tribe that transcends geographical separation. I had wanted to be live in January, but it’s taking longer than anticipated. Delays incur due to the challenges of learning to launch a website, they also occur as I learn to navigate the challenges of my new emotional development. So I dream, I journal, I kick it with my friends – women who are brilliant, strong, wonderful – and I take the time to experience everything around me. Crapsicles is coming along slowly, beautifully, and exactly as she ought to be in her natural evolution just as I am doing the same.
“Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.” -Langston Hughes