Two months. Two months I’ve been on leave.
I’ve turned my life in exactly the direction that I want, creating space to know that I am valued professionally, that I’m enough in demand that I don’t have to worry about unemployment, that people see my skills and want to work with me.
Having this space has given me a bit of wiggle room to just learn that others know what I do, what I’m about. This is huge, and was missing in my last job.
And also: I have my dream job. Not just a job, but a huge ground-breaking career move that I’m so ready for. I feel that I *should* be writing this post like this: “I have my dream job!!!!!!!” Complete with a gazillion exclamation points.
I am honoured and grateful to be working at elephant: I’ve never felt so right about anything in my life. This is where I belong. So I’m excited, yes, but calm.
But the rest of the space…well, it’s strange. I don’t feel like myself. I think that I’m transforming, shedding layers.
And there is this other part of my life that I am letting go of too. I am having heart- memories of many moments of bliss, as close to perfection as I’ve ever felt.
I write often about embracing uncertainty, about understanding that discomfort and fear are to be faced and acknowledged instead of run away from.
And I’m uncomfortable, sure. But beyond that. I feel really strange.
I feel like-well, not like me.
I’ve decided that it’s because it’s another level – layer – of transformation, something that I have to go through. This is the most intense part – not the worst (there is not a good or bad), just the most extreme. I think that it will level out in a couple of months, that this new skin might feel more natural and grow a little thicker.
And thank goodness the people around me have been/are so supportive and patient.
I’m so sure of my heart but the rest of life feels upside down. I feel totally lost but I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m okay, but I feel so different. Kind of disconnected.
Sometimes it feels a bit like depression, anxiety, sickness. But I think it’s different than just some sort of diagnosis.
I think it’s just the next level of that in-between state:
“Becoming intimate with the queasy feeling of being in the middle of nowhere only makes our hearts more tender.” ~ Pema Chodron (The Places That Scare You)
Anyhow, I’m letting go, emptying out, dropping a lot right now.
‘Turn on, tune in, drop out’ I guess (same idea, only minus the LSD).
Releasing a lifetime of thoughts and beliefs about what is supposed to be, and creating my own is.
Sometimes the emptying is coming in tears, but also in things, thoughts, relationships. Judgements, loves, fears and moments.
I have this habit of writing in ‘big’ concepts, of just pouring out the big picture all at once, a big complex and unclear and abstract set of thoughts.
As all these things fall I hurt, but I get better. I shed layers. I clear clutter. I fight every day with myself, with other people…well, people go pretty easy on me, but I still feel it. I still feel the judgement.
But the thing that makes me feel right, in the end, is that whatever this is, it’s not really about me.
It’s about interbeing, exchange. It’s two-way.
And this weird ‘not me’ kind of feeling is a part of what has to happen to come to a fresh start. Starting smaller, simpler, clearer.
Creating, producing, giving.
Oh ocean of thoughts. I love you. But you are so big and full and complex and swirling.
A need to write like the desert.