Lodestones

Change/Transformation, Hard Stuff, It's Personal, Life, Obstacles/Challenges, Reflection, Uncategorized, Writing

I’ve been avoiding writing for the last several months.  There are many reasons for this.  I’ve been turning to artwork as an expressive outlet, a need to be out of my internal, intellectual world, a deep, pervasive feeling of exhaustion, and, related to that exhaustion, no desire or will.

The impacts of seven months of looking for work, a two month journey to losing it, and the last ten weeks of re-entering the world of unemployment and job searching again?  Those impacts aren’t clear yet and probably won’t be for some unknown time.  What is clear is that my desire to feel productive, to feel useful, has lost its lodestone.

My internal compass has been spinning wildly, seeking an orientation, a focus, a place to land.  I’ve volunteered, networked, job searched, made art, written, and simply sat on my couch doing nothing.  I’ve had countless ideas for products, novels, art pieces, and community organizations, and I’ve put effort into a business idea with some potential.  But nothing has snapped into that empty spot.  None of my own ideas have quite slipped in to fill that hole – they aren’t big enough yet, solid enough.

What I have noticed is that the pressure to be productive – to always be creating something, doing something, seeking success in some way – is enormous and intense.  Internal, external, implicit, explicit, the subtle and not-so-subtle influences are everywhere.  To say that I feel like a piece of coal being squeezed and compressed into a diamond is a bit dramatic, but maybe it’s the best metaphor.

I no longer have an external motivator or source of direction; there is no one to help me direct when, where, and how I spend my energy and resources.  While I have a strong sense of myself, values, and interests, I’ve never thought of myself as an entrepreneur.  This time of unemployment has changed my thoughts and feelings though, and I’m planning toward self-sufficiency, toward being my own boss.

Perhaps I’m becoming my own lodestone.

lodestone2

Taking turns

Hard Stuff, It's Personal, Obstacles/Challenges, Reflection, Uncategorized, Writing

Seth Godin continually reads my mind.  Today, I woke feeling the depression and anxiety pressing in closer and closer.  I don’t mention this to my friends, don’t post about it on Facebook, and haven’t written about it publicly because it’s not useful for me.  I don’t want a bunch of likes or stickers or eAdvice or virtual condolences.   So why am I writing this post?  Because Seth wrote this one about whose turn it is and it made me cry.

Sometimes, all I want is for someone to acknowledge that the continuing to do the work, whatever it is, is hard when it feels like it’s never my turn.  I don’t want anyone to try and cheer me up, admonish me for thinking negatively, or tell me how great I am; I don’t need a cheerleader or a counselor or a conscience, or someone telling me “it’s not about turns,” or “think of all the things you have to be grateful about.”

Sometimes, I need to be sad and depressed and feel like my whole life hasn’t been my turn, or that I’ve let all my turns slip on by.  There are days where nothing helps. The best I can do is use my brain as a tire iron, jack my body out of bed, and find somewhere to sit and pretend to write or fill out job applications, check job boards, or read my Twitter feed.

I woke up to my life so late, took so much time figuring out the most basic things about myself that I can’t help but think that maybe my window closed, and the best I can hope for is to watch through someone else’s.  The desire to be significant, to matter, to be someone of consequence is overwhelming, and all I can think is that I haven’t done enough to create a turn for myself.

I’m not looking for comfort or reassurance or support, I’m writing to get this out of my mind so I can put  my brain to work elsewhere.  Seth is right.  Regardless of how I feel, I can keep making choices as if it is my turn.  The critical thing is to keep doing the work, creating art, being open and responsive, and the turn will make itself.

At least I’m not a bullet.

bulletfired

Today is not a good day

Blergh, It's Personal, Obstacles/Challenges, Rants, Reflection, Uncategorized, Writing

It just isn’t.  It’s been four and a half months of unemployment.  Four and a half months of ambiguity, uncertainty, and frustration.  Four and a half months of finding ways to “explore” my creative self, taking on volunteer projects, planning and preparing for future endeavors, reconnecting with friends, starting to network around the city again, and all the other ways I can milk this time off.

Believe me, I am grateful.

Even though the ending was hard, I am grateful to be out of my last job.  I am grateful to receive unemployment, grateful that I have no dependents, and that I have a gracious, affordable living space.  I am grateful that I had the means to seek help when I needed it, that I have a loving and supportive group of friends and extended family, that my life is calm and quiet, that I am financially able to care for myself and meet my material needs.  I am grateful I have built enough confidence to know that I will find meaningful work, and that I have a rich professional network to draw from when I do.

I am grateful for all of these things and still, today is not a Good Day.

The waiting is making me anxious, and I feel sedentary and stuck.  Positive self talk and forced cheerfulness are not welcome here today.  I’m finding things to nag myself about, and eagerly discovering fault in even the things I’m managing to well and consistently.   My toilet needs to be cleaned, I need a shower, have stopped cooking for myself more than one or two days a week, and can’t seem to make myself write every day.

I have no excuse for these things.  I have no dependents to care for, plenty of time, and few obligations, and yet my toilet goes unscrubbed and toenails go unpainted.  I’m not overly depressed or panicked, I’m doing the things I need to do, even if I don’t always feel like doing them.  But limitless, unbounded time isn’t the nirvana it’s made out to be, especially when there is are obvious ends.  If there were an end in sight, I believe there would be some sense of relief, of comfort in knowing that life will return to normal in 3…2….1….

I’m not looking for cheering up or placation or comforting remarks.  They wouldn’t work anyway because today simply isn’t a Good Day.

It's not your day.

It’s not your day.