I forgot how satisfying it was to quit a job you don’t like, at all. It is pretty awesome. I’m full time in the hospital’s Infusion Suite now. No more number crunching for me! I get to care for people who need me and work with folks who appreciate me. I am still clocking serious overtime in the ER. I am also taking classes. Back to school? Yep.
After hanging out in life’s waiting room for a bit things started to come together and solidify. Did they ever, like gangbusters! I had a feeling it would play out like that but man, when it rains it pours. I am beginning my new life with fresh vision of what I want things to look like and this time it actually suits me. I am in great shape and have the most amazing friends. And the best part is? None of this is supposed bullshit that I’m spinning. None of these statements is to convince myself of these hopes and ideals. These are simply the facts. Sometimes things still suck but perspective is my new best friend. It helps to know that you CAN pick up where you sort of left off, sort of. Or at the very least, pick up where you should have left off and run with it!
You'll want to give it back as soon as you get it. It's what you asked for. Here. Take it. It's yours now. Actually, it's just what you think you want. Those words you whispered to yourself late at night with your great hopeful heart have manifested into a reality but, not quite what you were expecting though, is it? The universe is very literal when it comes to granting wishes. Why all the disappointment when things seemingly come true? Duh. Our grandmothers were spot on with their warnings: "be careful what you wish for." I would like to add to that: "because you will get it."
I’m in limbo. It’s the good kind of directionless waiting room. I have done all my paperwork, said the words that needed to be said, paid what needed to be paid and now all I can do is wait and tend to the details. I am maintaining the processes but nothing has yet quite begun in any actual sense. It’s the beginning of the beginning; which means there’s nothing for me to anticipate. I quite like it. It’s been quiet on the overtime front so I have had some leisure time. So, of course I volunteered to milk. I helped a friend out this past weekend at a small production organic dairy. We only had a few Jerseys to do twice a day but it made me very happy to herd the cows down from the pasture into the parlor and milk them out. I got some good exercise, $25.00 and a quart of raw milk. I started thinking about where I used to milk and how much I wish that I could still be there. They’ve changed their milking schedule so it’s hard to stop by and visit (and sneak in my milking fix).
Even though it was bitter cold, I loved the wintertime 4:00am milking. Picture me in an insulated navy jumpsuit that was probably a young man’s snowmobile suit from a long time ago and my punk-rock red hair warming my hands on the filling glass milk jars, my bright blue fingerless gloves soaked with milk and iodine. The parlor was a shock of spearmint green and the heater would glow a vibrant orange overhead; the black and white Holsteins further warming the parlor with their body heat. When it is that cold in such a strangely humid environment everything feels viscous. I liked being still for a moment to just breathe it all in. To remember the wild colors and sensations coming together in the name of agriculture in this little room for these few hours each day. I would snap out of it as soon as I heard a milker come off. We’d all be cleaned up before the sun came up and I’d drive home into the brightening blue horizon in desperate need of coffee and a shower.
That’s where you hit it. You hit the nail on the head to drive it deeper in. And then you hit it again until there is nothing more to hit. Flush to the surface. I find comfort in the childlike simplicity of this action but there is something so complicated about the why of it. What if I weren’t so spot-on and steady with my hammer? I think I’d be happier. I am convinced of that. Those elephant footprints around a missed nail add necessary character and appeal.
I have begun the summer feeling rather dull and like a failure without real reason. The heat depresses me. I want to rip out my garden and get day-drunk and stay up late watching the Tour de France. When I am at work I stay extra hours to be in the central air. I am hiding at work. I am hiding in my bad habits.
I sort of lost my footing and now need to refocus, revamp my previously threadbare plans. This idea of a routing myself toward a new goal seems tangible and I know I will achieve it. Like building a foundation from scratch with both found pieces and newer materials. I can picture it in my head clearly. I will hit the nail on the head every time until it is complete. I know it will be strong enough to bear the weight of my pachyderm size future. It has to.
What do you do on days like this? Dull, chilly sunlight and quiet blue skies. Maybe knit a few more rows on that woolly pink scarf while watching that last bit of Law and Order you slept through last night. Maybe you walk your dog to the coffee shop for a latte and some girl talk. Take in some rays and gossip. Get a runny nose and windburn. Recite frantic and optimistic “to do” items that won’t get crossed off the list today: fold laundry, finish homework. Do dishes. Those heroic non sequitursthat have become dangerously ingrained in decision making. “We’ll get it to fit together somehow,” you say to the dog. She knows we won’t. Lazily make a beautiful lunch and eat it yawning bite by yawning bite. Take a nap in the nude with the baseball game on. A moment before sweet sleep to snuggle in and feel the delicious fibers of the down comforter on every inch of yourself and then dream of unrequited distant love for a stranger. And you end up doing all of the above. Because it was Saturday and you were feeling happy and alone. Because it was a terrific day for doing all those things.
I have been doing yoga for years with no particular intention other than the beneficial stretching and breathing. I am realizing now that my practice was rather hollow. Yes, it came from a good place but had no real meaning. I am pleased to say that has changed. I have new instructors and a new focus. I am opening my heart. Sometimes it hurts so much, sort of like I got punched in the heart, and I cry during my session. But I feel amazing after. I feel lighter and easily accept love that is offered to me. I was always just a giver. Now I can sense the seed of balance. The energy I manifest is raw and pure and powerful. The Mettā I am cultivating is being directed toward a very worthy recipient. Whatever your practice, reevaluate your intention. Create a goal beyond the physical and the benefit will drown your senses in joy.
I have noticed that I have become more of a processor. I like to watch people do things a few times before I try it myself. I like to visualize and put it all together in my head before stepping out. It could be that I am reinventing my childhood in a sense. When I was a kiddo I was always the first to jump. I was the kid everyone else watched to learn what not to do. I am lucky to have suffered no permanent physical repercussions. It is now that I am so careful that I get hurt.
Though risks are now calculated I still let myself get carried away when it comes to love. I think that is because it is the riskiest thing we do and the thing we have the least control over. So, I am never afraid to go for the gusto. Nervous, yes. Even cautious at times. But if I love you, you know it!
It used to all be about nature and art for me. Science and beauty. I dug fossils, worked for Chanel, milked cows, grew grapes and painted. Now it is a life of policy and procedure, blood and guts, human need and tactile art. I am seeing that my previous life has nurtured me enough to allow me the strength to do what I do now. They are complete opposites. And needed to be. But now my brain is mired with correct steps to take and with predetermined solutions to each scenario. There is not much room for finesse or ingenuity. It’s already all been done. I am being taught that no matter the situation the steps are the same. It is so conflicting with what I believe that I think I am having a tougher time with it than most. The funny thing is I am already planning to continue with all of this training!
It is really hard for me to be terribly creative at this time. That is rather depressing to me so I am finding other ways to create and express myself. My medium has always been written word. And I just don’t feel able to organize my thoughts enough to make them flow as beautifully as I like. This hiccup has brought me new opportunities and I have tried things that I normally wouldn’t have. A plainclothes blessing.
I understand that what you think your life should look like is not usually what it will be. But you can get pretty close. You just have to trust yourself. It is much harder than it sounds. Being cut off from your comfortable way of expression leads to amazing challenges that only help to build trust in yourself.It’s a bazaar cycle but it works.
