This was a post I originally began writing last night about how I felt run over by life yesterday and everything was just so angsty and inexplicably strange. But then the electricity went out just as I was ready to publish and I heard voices outside my house. It was only my neighbors, because apparently a power outage somehow signals them to all walk the streets shirtless, beer in hand. I would make a crack about how money can’t buy class or something, but I was honestly torn between joining them and screaming out the window to shut up, some of us are trying to go to bed! Perhaps it was a sign from above because today I am not feeling so much like my seventeen-year-old self, thankfully.

If you’d have told me at seventeen that at thirty I’d still have days when nothing but whining and eating Doritos made sense, I don’t think I would have believed you. But isn’t it exciting that we never really have to completely give up whining Doritos?!

Nevertheless, I did have these photos included in that post as I felt each of them illustrated something about how I was feeling yesterday, floating, not real, sort of loopy, sort of angry, sort of grounded, and fine.  It makes even less sense now, I think.  But I’ll still leave in the photos because although my seventeen-year-old self had a lot of things figured out, she also would have never believed she’d see all this.

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First, let me just start with this: my mother has a new found love for the Internet. Since my last post, she now loves everyone, and says thank you from the bottom of her heart, and is convinced that the entire blog world is all nice people with nice things to say. Let’s just allow her to live in that world. Okay then.

A few years ago, I remember listening to the radio as some deejays whose names I cannot remember were talking about someone whom I also cannot remember, and they said something like “man, that guy pretty much wins at life.” Apparently, this guy, probably a celebrity and/or professional athlete, had everything these guys thought life was about. No doubt money, talent, stuff, good-looking people surrounding him, a huge career, and maybe even a really cool dog. I don’t know.  The part that stuck with me was the “winning at life” part.

I remember thinking about that when I heard it, and how relative that is, and how yeah, that guy at that moment probably was winning at life that day.  At the time, I didn’t have quite the same attitude. For whatever reason, probably just a side effect of being in my mid-twenties, I didn’t feel like the biggest winner. Not to say I was a loser, but I will admit the better part of the last ten years of my life were spent two ways: either getting somewhere, or thinking about how to get somewhere. Not unusual, right? I mean, who doesn’t think about that when they’re 25, and clueless, and too caught up in their own head to realize they may not actually even like any of the things they’re spending all their time doing? I know I wasn’t alone. In short, I spent a lot of time thinking about how I wasn’t winning at life.

I believed I was on my way, sure, but I was still too stupid to realize what I do now, that the win is mostly about me.  And you guys, I don’t know if it’s just summer or how awesome I feel every day just to be able to enjoy it, but right now I am so all about the win. I mean, I’m not even kidding, I go around doing laundry, and planting flowers, and running errands, and doing dishes and the entire time, every day, I just cannot believe how much I love it. It makes me want to scream, in a good way, that I love dishes. I don’t even understand that sentence.

The weirdest part is, I have all kinds of reasons to not feel this way. I mean, this is the Internet and there are things I cannot talk about right now, but trust me when I say that pretty much everything is weird and new and uncertain at the moment.  I have tried several different paths, sometimes it feels like a million different paths, and nothing, NOTHING, is working like I thought it would. I have reasons to crawl into bed in a ball and never leave. But that urge, it never comes. And no, I’m not drinking more, nor do I have any drugs, prescription or otherwise, which I did seriously consider in the past.  It’s so weird, because that urge, that feeling used to come. It used to happen all the time. I have no idea how I learned to live day-to-day like this, and have faith, and know that everything I dream of is somehow in the process of working out and it’ll somehow go just how I think it will and also, not at all how I think it will.

Does any of that make sense? Because, people, I don’t think I have any other way of explaining it.  Every day just comes and goes, and I am hard pressed to find anything wrong with any bit of it, even the scary parts. The future is just there, and I am just here, and neither “place” is fighting the other.  And I win.

I have a family member— related to me by marriage only, but still, family— who has always known what he’s wanted to do. Or, at least, from a very young age he has always known. He is a dancer, and he’s so very good that, honestly, even though I’m far from the closest person to him, it’s hard to imagine him doing anything else in this world. It’s nothing short of amazing to watch. He loves what he does, he is extremely good at it, and he knew it a long time ago it was where he is meant to be. And, he’s successful and will likely continue to be even more so.

I know several people like this, people gifted in a lot of different ways, who have always known what they wanted to do, what they were good at doing. I know landscapers and designers and doctors who are all, essentially, in their place. Their calling. It’s pretty remarkable when you see someone who’s doing just what they’re meant to do. It’s amazing. I mean, I have seen a software developer so absolutely, unarguably skilled at his job that he literally invented things right before my very eyes.  It does not have to be glamorous to be amazing, people.

As I write this, though, I know I’m only talking about some people. A relatively small percentage of us really have truly looked at ourselves, seen what we’re capable of, believed, and somehow had the perfect storm of life events occur enough so that we could make it there, to that place where we’re doing what we should be doing. Some of us are on our way. We have an idea. We know what we’re good at, but we’re just not sure how to make a life within that space. More of us still are not even on the road. We feel clueless and bound to what we know, or what is working for the moment, what has worked in the past.

And I truly believe that within our own space, we can turn into something bigger, better, and more incredible than we often try to achieve. There are not limits. Once we get real, are still, and listen, there are no bounds. We are the opposite of the goldfish that can only grow to the size of his bowl. We are both the fish and the bowl.

Me, I am somewhere in between the person that knows and the person who’s clinging to the familiar. Of course I am fine with that on most levels (the bank account level not being one of them. Ahem!). I am fine that I’m learning, that since leaving my last full-time job I have learned and grown every single day. That I am fine with. That I hadn’t done in a really long time. I figure, though, that for those of us that aren’t dancers, or that once were dancers and now have to find ourselves on another path, there is hope.  I figure that learning and growing every day and feeling closer and more comfortable with that place you’re getting to—even if that “place” is just another road—is probably one of the greatest kinds of hope there is. But I also figure there is a breaking point. There is a point where the tides will turn, where you will know, where I WILL KNOW just enough to push through to something else, something that’s waiting. And then, the space will become bigger.

And hopefully, like now, that space will contain a beach. Which is where you’ll find me for the next few days.

We are both the fish and the bowl.

I have probably become far too philosophical for my own good around here lately. It’s like once a week I have these deep thoughts that have to be purged and so I do and then I think wow, how can a person not look crazy after all of that? And anyone who’s kept up is probably thinking the same thing. Working, then not working, then working again, then not so much working. Happy, then not happy, then happy again, and then still happy but also thinking way too hard and so then sort of unhappy. Oh, poor me, with the luxury of worrying about happiness. I know.

But of course life hasn’t stopped amidst all of this, and if I took the time to write out in detail everything that’s going on, it still wouldn’t really matter because crazy things happening and major life challenges just don’t take a break. I mean, I’m talking long-lost relatives calling out of no where craziness. I’m talking weird, weird news and phone calls. It’s weird, y’all, and I still don’t have a permanent job/career move happening, so everything else feels pretty unsettled. Except for the fact that I am still overwhelmed daily by just how OKAY I feel about everything, it’s hard to express that without sounding like a crazy person. Like someone who’s living in a fantasy and has lost her mind completely and who’s going to end up in a bad, bad situation.

And while those thoughts cross my mind, I just don’t think it’s going to get that bad. I can’t explain things like this, and I guess who can? But when you say it out loud, to people who don’t seem to understand quitting a job and losing income and pretty much putting everything you’ve worked hard to have in 16 years in jeopardy, then yeah it does sound pretty crazy.  But you know what? I am healthy, my family is healthy, I play Scrabble with my grandmother and I do her chores so she doesn’t have to, I spend time with family and my adorable nephew, I have hikes and long dinners with friends, people to support me, and over all life isn’t just good it is damn good. It’s like hitting a jackpot, except that jackpot is filled with everything except money.

It’s a roller coaster, pretty much daily, because I know that this can’t go on forever. And I know that while there is every possibility of a very good road, there is also the same possibility of a very bad road. I guess the only thing I know for sure is that the difference between those roads is, apparently, faith and paying attention.  Everything I’m doing or have done has probably not been the right thing. I get that. It’s been risky and stupid and, in a lot of opinions, crazy. I could very well be (for lack of a more intelligent phrase) screwing myself for the rest of my life. It’s true.  But right now, looking around me, looking at the immediate minutes and hours and days ahead, I don’t feel screwed at all.

I just feel lucky.

There is a theory out there—I’m not sure what it’s called—about finite energy. Supposedly, in this world or universe or whatever you believe/perceive to be the bounds of creation and existence, within that space there is a certain amount of energy that is static. It’s measure remains the same no matter what time it is, no matter how many life forms are in existence, and no matter what is happening within the space. There is an unseen, often unnoticed balance that exists, has always existed, and will continue to exist no matter what. I am assuming there are mathematical equations for this theory, too, written out on a chalkboard down some very long hallway with cinder block walls, just waiting for some night janitor to come along and solve something no card-carrying genius ever could.

But because I’m not that night janitor, nor the card-carrying genius, I’m forced to think of this theory within my own terms, my own experience.  Apparently, the basis of this theory is energy comes in many, many forms, and travels in many, many different styles, but the amount of it that is available is constant. There is only enough energy to sustain that which consumes, recycles, and passes on energy within our space here, living in this space and time. Am I getting too science-y? Yes, I think I am. (Along with not being a huge fan of math, science was not really my deal, either. Thank God I can spell. Mostly.)

Basically, everything that occurs, be it large or small, is to either give way to energy for something else, or to take the energy from something else. This is the reason for all things, big and small. From babies being born, to a car breaking down. Things we see no reason for, things that seem awful and wrong and altogether cruel, too, have a reason for being given space within this finite field of energy.

I don’t say this to try to make myself or anyone feel okay about awful things. Oil spills, earthquakes, death, these are not things that can be made okay by some theory. But the thing about this theory is that energy, the kind that essentially is the basis for existence, is not particular. It is not about good occurring because there is want or even a need, and it is not about being able to stop bad from happening because there is a want or need. What it is about, though, is a greater, defined path on which everything will eventually unfold, irrespective of opinion. It means that something is always giving way to something else, and whether that something be twenty minutes or 20 years into the future, there is always something else.

What I’m getting at, if have haven’t lost everyone by now, is that so often I have found myself looking for an explanation of why something is the way it is, or why something isn’t the way it used to be. If I had a dollar for every time I did that in my twenties, for example, you’d be reading the words of a multi-millionaire right now. But what I find now is that along with this finite amount of energy available comes only a finite amount available to me, and fighting hard for more only seems to make it harder to get.

Sometimes, this sounds a lot like giving up. Sometimes, this sounds a lot like simply turning over things out of my control.  To me right now though, it sounds a lot like acceptance. Because bad things, or unpredictable things, or wrong things never seem to ask permission to interrupt, and whether you use it or fight it, it still happens. I believe that is how the energy theory works. And I will continue believing that, until maybe some janitor tells me otherwise.

The thing about making a decision that I can always appreciate is the almost instant relief that follows. Somewhere in those 10 or 20 seconds after I feel completely reassured and optimistic. Sometimes that feeling lasts longer, but not often. Usually my mind will drift toward thoughts of “What if?” and “What now?”

Today, though, I just want to make the effort to live in those 10 to 20 seconds for as long as I can.  I want to appreciate them for what they are, my ability to make a choice, or exercise my free will you might say, while still having faith that it will all work out without worrying about what’s next. One thing I don’t usually do is second guess myself. I make a decision and commit to it and move forward.  Sometimes it is completely right, and sometimes not so much, but either way I make it and own it. And then move on.

I am probably rambling right now, and not making enough sense to qualify for a coherent post, but I guess what I am trying to say is that I feel pretty great. These 10 to 20 seconds are so joyful, so okay.  And right now, maybe even all day, I’m going to live in these 10 to 20 seconds and feel reassured that these seconds, along with everything that led up to them, is just what is meant to be.

I know that in my last couple posts, I may have seemed very dramatic. I mean, who calls someone being unprofessional a “disaster?” It could be a lot worse, right? So much worse. Partly because I chose not to go into detail, and partly because I shared my immediate reaction, I know I sounded like I was exaggerating the whole thing.

While I am okay with that, because my work and my reputation are important to me, I will admit that the last few days have distanced me from things enough to realize a little about what the real struggle is for me: control. Without, still, going into more detail, I will say that I had idealized this opportunity and its potential to the point where I was blindsided.

Now, I’m not saying that we should always anticipate the worst so that we’re prepared for the inevitability of things going wrong, but as far as preparation goes, I had none.  And for me, this spoke less about this situation individually and more about my life over all. It said to me that although I have been telling myself for many months that I had a certain trust that things would work out, I hadn’t really put that into practice outside of my own thinking. Does that make sense? Although I was walking around telling myself I had faith, I’d never come to a point wherein I actually HAD to have it.  You might say it wasn’t tested.

I think we do that a lot, and I know I do. Because word is always easier to understand than action, because “trust” rolls so easily off our tongues, we become a little proud. “I have faith” we say, and then we move on, seemingly untouchable. Sure, there is nothing wrong with that. Reassurance isn’t a bad thing. But just saying something and believing it with the words alone being the only proof that it is true, is not really truth at all, is it? The real truth comes in the aftermath, in your reaction, in the process between the moment of the blindside to the moment that you realize what life (or God, or your faith, or your beliefs, or the universe) is really trying to show you.

So, the events of last week aren’t really about work at all. Admittedly, I still am not sure of what I’m going to do about the whole thing. I have some big movess to make, that’s for sure. I am feeling a lot of pressure and worry and that probably won’t wholly go away. But I have learned one thing so far (and there’s more to learn, I’m sure) and that is that I have to turn it over. In my case, I feel like I can turn it over to God, because that is the foundation of what I believe. Whatever it is for anyone else, though, is just as powerful. It is not so much about where you’re turning it over to as it is that you’re actually following through on the action itself. You are surrendering control, or the belief that you had the control to begin with, as the case may be.

As I said, I know this isn’t a fix. I’m not looking for that. I know I have a choice, now and always, and that there’s still a chance that I will choose wrong. I guess I have that to look forward to. But what I think I also have to look forward to is a better practice of what it means, for me, to actually have faith that things will work out, and to still believe that even when they don’t.

Sometime last week something hit me and I decided it was time to start putting more time into running, upping the mileage again. Normally I would have done this earlier in the year, but the weather here has been so uncooperative that getting outside just wasn’t at all attractive until now. My running, though, has suffered and it’s going to take some time to rebuild. I’m thinking of just restarting at a 5K distance and going from there. My running is sort of disastrous right now, and I think the only way to get over that is just to start over at Step One.

This morning I went out for a run sort of early, and it was already 50 degrees. That’s a near-perfect running temperature, for me, and it was probably the best way to start out this Monday.  If you read my post from two days ago, then I probably don’t have to say that I’ve been stressed out and worried about work all weekend, which is really no way to spend a weekend. I’m sure you agree.

And if you’re following along, I have made the first steps in handling the situation, along with defending myself, so I’m trying to move forward. I’ve received a lot of advice and the common thread seems to be just to slow down and handle one thing at a time, so that’s what I’m trying to do. The hardest part is conveying my “slowed down” tone to others while protecting myself at the same time. Lordy, I did not miss this about larger-scale work AT ALL.

It’s really tough for me to keep myself from making sweeping generalizations at this point, but I’m trying not to do that. I’m trying to see this as just a speed bump, but WOW, it is one huge friggin’ speed bump, and I think it’s going to leave a mark. I’m trying to remove myself from the initial bad feelings enough to make decisions, but it’s really tough. I might need outside intervention to keep me from reacting the way I want to right now, which is something like “fine, if that’s how it’s going to be, goodbye.” I know that doesn’t seem very adult or professional in itself, though. It turns out I take my work incredibly personally.  Aren’t we all shocked?

So I’m going to keep thinking, and keep getting advice, and keep trying to just handle one little disaster at a time. I’m probably going to need to run every morning this week.

It’s pretty strange for me to sit down and want to write something on a Saturday. In spite of the unconventional schedule I’ve sort of adapted to over the last few months, I still tend to think of Saturday like most people and do things that I normally wouldn’t do during the week. I don’t even know what the point is in explaining this other than to say that even when writing my last post, I had no idea how true it would ring days later.

Things have been going okay, work-wise. From the outside looking in it’s looked like I’ve had some success, have gotten on a different road, and that things are “looking up,” you might say. The entire time, though, I’ve had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something wasn’t right– I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I couldn’t explain why. This came out in the form of “yeah, yeah, this is good but I want more” in recent posts but what it really should have been was me saying I have an internal voice going “something is wrong.” And later in the week this week, that voice got louder. Each time I had to tell someone things were going well, because by all accounts at that point they were, there was still a part of me uneasy with saying that.

I would generally follow up these “so far, so good” statements with the disclaimer that I wasn’t comfortable yet, it was all still new to me, etc. There was a tone of non-commitment to these statements, which I knew, but on the inside it was fear that, once again, something just wasn’t right.

Had I known that those feelings and statements would just get heavier and more uncomfortable toward the end of the week, I would have probably anticipated the events of Friday afternoon a lot better. While I can’t go in to every detail, the gist of it was that a client responded to work I had done in a way so unprofessional that I have yet to know how to respond myself. I have seen nothing like it in sixteen years of work. Basically I have been dragged through the mud without ever having been given a chance, and it all was a result of a miscommunication on their side which I had no idea had even occurred.

I keep trying to talk myself down, saying that there’s a way to handle it, to make it better and move on, but I just can’t see it. I have never in my life witnessed someone act this way professionally and I’m dumbfounded. I know that feeling in the pit of my stomach is there for a reason, and I just wish I had listened to it sooner. I was very caught up in not letting an opportunity get away and perhaps sensing myself getting to the point of desperate that I guess I mistook my feelings of uneasiness for normal fear of doing something new. I feel like I’m at that point in the road where it’s ten feet past where you thought the end of the road was, and now you’re officially falling off the edge. I don’t know that I’m built for being able to handle this. Or maybe I’m supposed to learn something from all of this, I don’t know.

What I do know is, that feeling earlier in the week, that post about Emotional Breakdown vs. Miracle? Well, we now have the first part covered.  Time for the miracle now.

It seems as though sitting at a desk— your own desk, in your own home— hours per day does not lend itself to writing thoughtful after insightful after entertaining post on your blog. Weird.

Still, I sit at my own desk, in my own home, hours per day, and work. Sort of. Pretty much. I mean, work being all the typing and writing and trying to comprehend the work I’m doing for actual money. That, too, is weird.  I guess I am a contractor now, or freelance, or consultant, or whatever you might call it. Basically taking a job here and there over those cold, wintery months didn’t feel as real as this does, and so now I feel employed as opposed to UNEMPLOYED. Only it doesn’t feel quite like success yet. It does feel, though, like I might not drown in my own life and dreams. Which is, apparently, good.

Woo! Was that the most confusing paragraph ever? I think so. It is a very strange thing to try to write down how you feel fortunate, but not fortunate enough. It seems as though all I ever do around here is whine about wanting more! And better! And wah wah wah!  But, that is still where I am.  I would say the only thing that sucks more than not being successful at all is being just slightly successful enough so that you can see even more needs around you that your current success doesn’t allow you to fufill.  And here we are not making much sense again.

All I’m saying is, I know there are people and causes and situations SO much worse off than I. I get that. It’s in my head. It’s in my head about a billion times a day, if you must know. And it feels like I’m just throwing my fortune in the face of the world when I say “wah, this isn’t enough” but at the same time I’m sitting here going, okay, really, why would I have these feelings and ideas if I’m not meant to listen to them, to one day use them? One day soon.

There is no way of saying this that isn’t going to make other people react one of two ways: 1) “Oh, Lesley, don’t worry! You are young! You have so much ahead! Yippee!” Or, 2), “You are already good enough! Appreciate what you have! Blah blah blah!” Or perhaps a third reaction of “I know what you mean, sister.” Which is all good and fine. I expect it all. I just don’t, um… accept it.

Forgive me. I’ve had three cups of coffee. I am teetering between the edges of Emotional Breakdown and Miracle. One or both is likely to happen today. I need to give up this quantity of coffee. But I will not give up the dream!  Ha!

Heh!

Wouldn’t it be funny if I really talked like that?

The End.