Peace in the Journey (On Being Humbled)

I've been wanting to write for a while, but I haven't because lately, I haven't felt very inspired.  I wrote a post a couple of months ago about being happy, and I'm embarrassed to admit that, once again, I'm not happy.

I keep struggling with the issue of happiness, and every time I write about it, I think that I have the answer, but I don't.  I always seem to think that the next step in my journey is bringing me closer to happiness.  This is something that we all struggle with, I think.  We have been taught that happiness is the destination.  And while I have even tried to instill in the young women I advised and mentored that "It's the journey, not the destination" that counts, I still struggle with the journey.  I still seek that destination.  And for me, that destination equates to happiness.

I thought that if I were in the right place and felt good about my job, I would be happy.  I thought that if men at the very least noticed me, I would be happy.  I thought that if the weather were warmer, I would be happy.  And while some of those things have happened, they still aren't enough. The job is not what I thought it would be, and again, I am learning that because someone is a supervisor or manager, it doesn't mean that person is a leader.  Men do a little more than notice me now, but they're not doing exactly what I want them to, in the way I want them to do it.  The weather is warmer, but the amount of time and energy it takes to get around in this area means more time is spent indoors or in a car than enjoying the weather.  In other words, this is a season in my life where everything is out of my control, and I don't like it.

Found on Facebook

For so long, I have been comfortable.  I was the go-to person at my job.  I knew how to get things done fairly quickly and effectively.  I had settled for an on-again, off-again relationship that gave me the feeling of being loved without the daily sacrifices that one usually makes in a committed relationship.  I arranged my life so that I had as little inconvenience as possible.  I basically made life as easy for myself as possible, challenging myself only to the point where I could pull back easily: take doctoral courses, they get too difficult to manage, take less classes or just take a leave of absence.  Have someone tell me he loves me, that gets too difficult, do or say something to push him away so that I don't have to invest emotional energy.  Move closer to work.  Be friendly, but withdraw or disappear often enough so no one
would actually rely on me for anything.  This comfort I created for myself protected me from being hurt and made me feel almost invincible.  I came off to many as confident, empowered, successful, and smart.

Finally, the facade broke, and I made a decision to jump off the cliff of comfort (I know, corny).  And here I am, in this new place with new people.  I am feeling my way around work, around new relationships, and around this new place that seems to provide everything I need but feels like a mountainous challenge to get to so that I could enjoy it.  I find myself retreating and withdrawing.  I find myself wondering who I really am and if I really am this lovable person that I always seemed to be for the last ten years or so.  I find myself humbled by my experiences - being low on the totem pole at work, my self-confidence misunderstood (and attacked) by some, not being ferociously pursued by a romantic interest.  Every day, it feels as if the person I have been for so long keeps falling away in pieces, leaving someone unrecognizable even to me.  I don't know who I am at the moment.  My support systems have been hiding places for me, and so I don't want to rely on them right now, because I understand that hiding is the same thing as being in control, creating a comfort zone, and remaining safe.

I am not there.  I have not made it.  I am living day by day, moment by moment, feeling intense discomfort and discontent.  I am not there, but I am here.  I know that this part of my journey is meant to take me somewhere I haven't been before.  Maybe I haven't been able to commit because I think I'm a failure at commitment.  Maybe I need to stop thinking that relentlessly intense pursuit is a sign of long-lasting interest.  Maybe it's the little things - small demonstrations of thoughtfulness rather than grandiose romantic gestures - that lead to getting to know someone genuinely and not the image of Prince Charming that has probably sabotaged all of my relationships.  Maybe work isn't the place for me to throw all of my energy into, because in reality, people are more important.  Maybe I need to stop seeing work as a place where I serve the institution or the person I work for, but just as a conduit to serve people in a way that aligns with my purpose.  In other words, I am not there to please those that hired me; I am there to turn on a light for the many people I encounter who cannot see how to achieve their goals.

I am here.  This is just another step in my journey, not my destination.  I am completely out of my comfort zone, feeling emotionally, mentally and spiritually naked.  In this nakedness, I must find peace.  And the peace in this journey, for me, is that this isn't my destination; this is a kind of "threshing floor," a place where negativity can be stripped from me so that I can be made more pure to go into the next step of my journey.

Humility comes as a result of the exposure of ego.  As the negative aspects of my ego are exposed (either through self-awareness or by the actions of others towards me), I am more humbled.  In that humility, I can learn.  As I learn, I am prepared to take the next step.  It's time to let go of the old to receive the new; old mindsets and habits must give way so that I can be prepared to step into a completely new experience.

And isn't that why I turned my own world upside down in the first place?

Child-like Faith

Gift from former students

I am counting the months.  If you've been counting with me (which I have no idea why you would be; that's kind of weird), this week makes month three of unemployment for me.

I honestly had no idea what I was really getting myself into when I decided to pick up and leave a place I had inhabited for thirteen years, in a matter of four weeks.  I gave away tons of stuff to whomever would take it, packed up in a matter of days really, rented a U-haul, and my awesome brother and nephew drove my stuff 350 miles to its current storage place, my mother's basement. I spent a few weeks with family, a week on vacation, another week with my mother, and then I moved more stuff to my brother and sister-in-law's home in another state.  And here I am, still job searching and still trying to figure out where I'll land (see last month's post here).  I've had a few phone interviews, a few in-person interviews, and had a few really encouraging meetings with people who have authority to make hiring decisions, including one with a woman whom I have identified as a potential mentor. And yet, I find myself concerned with many things.

"Are my brother and his wife regretting their decision to allow me to stay in their home?"

"Am I not casting my net wide enough?  Should I actually be searching in other states?"

"How will I pay my bills next month, if I don't have a job by then?"

"How will I pay rent when I do get a job?  The cost of living is way higher here!"

Obviously, these are questions and concerns anyone who just decides to quit their job and move to another state would have.  There are nights when these concerns keep me up for hours.  I absolutely hate being dependent on others; I am one of the most independent people I know.  There are times when I feel like a burden, when I can't believe that I would impose myself on my family the way that I have.  And I have mentioned to some of my closest friends that I feel like I made a mistake giving up the security of a tenured job, one where I was hugged and told that I was loved on an almost daily basis.  While these feelings have been with me throughout most of this period of unemployment, I never really articulated my actions as a mistake until very recently.  But then I read a devotional email that brought me back to the reasons why I did what I did:

From Today's Word by Joel and Victoria Osteen, March 17, 2014:

"God is strategic. He has laid out an exact plan for our lives right down to the smallest details. He knows the people you need to meet in order to fulfill your destiny. He knows who is going to give you a good break and who is going to put in a good word for you. He knows when someone is going to need to be there to help you out of a difficult time. God has it all figured out. He is not vague or approximate. He is orchestrating your life right down to the very second, causing you to be at the right place at the right time so you can meet the right people that He has ordained before the foundation of the world."

As I stated earlier, I had a meeting a few weeks ago with a woman who works as an Assistant Dean at an institution I would love to work for.  Not only does this institution have a great reputation, it has a doctoral program with coursework that most closely matches the coursework I completed during the Ph.D. program I left without completing, credits that would most likely transfer. She was introduced to me by my brother's next door neighbor, who happens to be her boss.  While it was not a formal interview, we were both well aware that a position is opening up in her department, so I was prepared for an informal interview.  

While it was already amazing that my brother lives next door to her boss, what happened next could have only been divinely orchestrated.  (I learned later that she never looked at my resume, which was sent to her prior to our meeting.) When asked the requisite, "tell me about yourself" question, for some reason - I do not know why or how - one of the first things that came out of my mouth had to do with where I got my Master's degree.  I never start to answer that question in that way.  But this time I did, and she automatically responded with surprise and a certain professional level of glee: she attended the same exact Master's program! Then she asked if I had a graduate assistantship there, and when I told her I did, and where, she had the same assistantship! And she even knew someone who I'd worked with, and certainly demonstrated that she felt the same way about this person as I did.  (Long story, you had to be there.  But be glad you weren't!)

With our meeting off to a great start, we talked about my experiences, and she asked me what I wanted to know about her, her department, and the position.  I had done my research, so I was able to answer these questions (VERY IMPORTANT LESSON - you can't go into any meeting without doing your research about the person as well as the organization).  It became clear throughout this meeting - a 30 minute appointment that went well over an hour - that not only could I relate to this woman, but she was a great model for the type of professional I could grow to become.  She began to make statements that sounded as if she were trying to sell her institution to me.  

Finally, I asked her for advice on my job search, because I wanted to demonstrate that I believed her time was valuable and that I was grateful that she spent it with me.  She encouraged me to apply for the position, stating that she saw a good fit for her department. She asked if there was some temporary work I could do in the meantime, because the position doesn't start until late spring.  I told her that I was doing temporary work and explained what the work was, and in that instance, I seemed to be teaching her something about the higher education industry.  She told me to appreciate the opportunity that I have to take some time to explore other areas of higher education and to be grateful for this time of unemployment, because it isn't something many people can do without having real concerns (because my concerns, while real, are not as pressing as I know other unemployed people's concerns are).  She said this was a blessing for me.  

Within this conversation, although I never mentioned my spiritual beliefs, or the sense of connection I felt with this woman, I did share something with her that I haven't shared with anyone.  I told her that, when people at my former institution would ask what I wanted to do in my new state, I would tell them that I wanted to work at her institution.  I told her that I didn't have a clue as to how or when that would happen, but that I said it as a little child would say that they want something to happen.

That's the kind of faith it takes to do something so utterly brave (or crazy), like quitting a tenured position and moving to a state that you're not even sure you can financially afford to live in.  Child-like faith doesn't ask for all the details.  Child-like faith expects to win.  Child-like faith believes in what is good, in what is right and true in one's heart.  

I looked at my bank account dwindling this week, and thought about that meeting that happened a few weeks ago.  I thought about the nonexistent paycheck that I thought I would be getting from my last job, because I was confused about how pay periods work. I thought about that job that doesn't start until a few months from now at the institution I want to work for.  I thought about the job I just interviewed for that maybe isn't the best fit for me.  I thought about what my family might think if I turned down a potential offer because I don't want to settle.  All of the concerns came up again, mostly financial.  And then I read this earlier this morning:

"And this same God who takes care of me will supply all your needs from His glorious riches, which have been given to us by Christ Jesus." - Philippians 4:19

Now, I have read this Scripture many times, but reading it this morning brought me back to the last time it really came alive for me.  I had been recently separated from my husband, had started a Master's program far away from my family and everyone I knew, and had spent a semester as a graduate intern, having taken a $22,000 pay cut.  During the break after my first semester, I was thinking of quitting my Master's program and going back to teaching because I couldn't live on the very small amount of pay I was making.  I remember reading this Scripture, and soon after, I received a phone call from the director of my department saying that he wanted to promote me to a full-time position, and double my salary.  It was enough for me to finish my Master's degree and move forward in my life in a way that I was not able to while I was married.

Child-like faith understands that the answers may not be clear at first.  Child-like faith understands that you may not know everything, but you have a deep sense of knowing within you that you are taking the right step at the right time.  

Today, I went downstairs after my morning yoga, and I saw an envelope with my name on it.  I opened it, and it was a check for the work I had done last month.  A nice-sized check that I can use to pay the bills I was concerned about, for at least the next month.

Child-like faith believes that where God guides, He will provide.

I'm sharing this because, although we may not all share the same belief system, we have to know that the road map to our purpose lies within us.  We have to quiet ourselves from all of the concerns, the worries, the doubts, and the fears, so that we can hear that Inner Voice telling us what the next step is.  

Child-like faith believes that our journey to our life's purpose begins when we take a step, not knowing what the next step will be.

So I continue on this path, returning to the faith that little children have.  Because a child knows what we adults often forget: that if we believe, anything is possible.

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” - Matthew 19:14

Home

Courtesy of www.craftyindividuals.co.uk

I feel like I'm sitting in a confessional.  "Bless me Father, for I have sinned, it has been two months since I quit my job, and these are my feelings."  These days, I count time based on when I left my job, and the city/town/village/boonies I lived in for thirteen years.  In the first month, I moved, spent the holidays with family, went on vacation by myself, and slept A LOT.  Woke up at ungodly hours of the day (11am for me is just lazy) and spent the day in pajamas until I could motivate myself to take a shower.  For most of this time of unemployment, I have not worn make-up, used a curling iron, or even wore pants.  Leggings all-day, err-day.  I have spent more time in the house than probably the entire amount of time I spent in my last apartment.

This is not me.  I am (or was) used to getting up early to do my morning yoga, eat breakfast, run out of the house, work, go to school a few times a week, run errands after work, and trying to look my best doing all of these things.  Some days, I could barely breathe.  I spent so much time doing something, and I am in an interesting place right now.  It's not good.  It's not bad, and people tell me that I am in the best place to do things for myself right now.  But when you are used to always performing, always striving, and always trying to please others (let me keep it real), resting is not part of the vocabulary.  After a while, you (at least I feel this way) start to get paranoid that people think you're a lazy bum.  Are you searching hard enough?  Why don't you have a job yet?  Why are you still in bed?  This is what the second month looks like.  Not really knowing what to do with myself, except that I know what I should be doing.  My close friends know what I should be doing.  But somehow, all of these feelings of guilt for not working my butt off every single day begin to eclipse my purpose and my head is filled with so many doubts and fears that it isn't clear enough to do what I should be doing, which is writing my book.  Or, you know, enjoying life.

I don't really want to get to the third month of unemployment, but it will be here in about four weeks. While I am starting to feel a shift - it could be the well-paying temporary work I got, it could be the weather, it could be the email inviting me for a phone interview - I am so ambivalent about what I'm feeling, who I am right now, what my purpose is, and where I will land.  I am meeting new people, catching up with old friends, and spending more time with family than I'm sure they really want.  But I am also missing people so much.  I spent about one month with my mother, with whom I had not spent so much time in the past ten years.  And at the age of 42, I feel as attached to her as I did when I was five.  While I have no children of my own, I had hundreds of students who called me Mama G, Mom, or Mommy.  Leaving them feels like I ripped out pieces of my heart and scattered them in so many places.  (For Harry Potter fans, it's like leaving little horcruxes everywhere!)  And there are some people I miss who I didn't even think I would miss so much.  We take so many things for granted - the every day conversations, the meals eaten together, even just passing each other in the hallway - that when those things don't happen anymore, it's like someone pulled the rug out from under you.

Someone told me yesterday, "You turned your life upside down."  I never thought of it that way until my feelings started to betray me.  When I decided to leave my job and the area I'd lived in since graduate school, I was so happy to do so.  I knew it had gotten stale, and that really, there were NO men for me to meet and fall in love and get married and have babies and live happily ever after with (I haven't given up on this dream yet!).  I knew that there was nowhere for me to go in my current job.  I knew that if I stayed, my spirit would have been crushed.  So all I felt was peace and happiness.  In the last couple of weeks, I was slapped with reality.  I don't have a job.  I actually don't have a permanent address.  I am staying with family, but ME, I'm HOMELESS.  Me.  The person who valued her space and her independence.  The person who valued being strong and secure.  I did turn my life upside down, and while so many people have said that what I did was brave, I don't feel so brave right now.

I told my sister I was afraid that I'd made a big mistake.  She said that I did what I needed to do at the time, that of course I would have some regrets.  Maybe this happens to everyone; actually, I'm sure it does, but I am usually so sure of myself that it's strange to feel so discombobulated.  The easiest thing I could do is go back.  I was job searching yesterday and found a position open at my old job, and for about half a millisecond I considered applying for it.  I had to talk myself out of it.  I thought about how I have an approved leave of absence from my doctoral program, and looked up a department I'd interviewed with at that institution to see if there were any openings.  I thought about going back.  And again, I had to tell myself that I never even wanted to live there in the first place and that when I interviewed for that job, I was so nervous that I would get it and have to live in that godforsaken place, but I interviewed anyway.  (Thank God, I didn't get that job.) 

So why am I sharing this?  Because, as with all things in life, there is a lesson.  I think I'm still learning this, but today, when I told one of my dearest former students "I don't know where I will land", she said, "Somewhere they are going to want you; no doubt you'll definitely be somewhere, because somebody needs you!"  And just like that, I remembered.  I remembered that I left because I was no longer needed where I was.  I left because my assignment was up.  My most vulnerable students, my first semester freshmen, were almost all doing well academically.  My sophomores and I had developed great relationships, but they actually needed me to leave so that they could grow up - several of them have told me that my leaving has forced them to do so.  My juniors and seniors, for the most part, were comfortable with advocating for themselves and planning for their futures.  And my women's leadership group has an amazing team of young women who understand the mission and goals of the organization and are more than capable of carrying the vision forward.  My friends had either left, or had other pursuits that were taking up their time, and I no longer felt supported, personally or at work.  It was time to go.  

Moving forward is hard.  Yes, in the beginning, you might feel some peace.  That is what God gives you so that you have the strength to take the risk.  But in the transition time, you will feel doubt.  That's when I keep reminding myself that God brought me here, and He will not leave me.  I'm not always going to be in this state of emotional purgatory; and yet this is where I need to be right now - to be cleansed of old thoughts and habits that related to an old lifestyle, and to start again, pure and ready to embrace the new assignment God has for me.  

The feeling of homelessness happens when your soul and spirit are unsettled.  That feeling of not knowing where you will land will go away when you land in your new purpose.  And wherever your spiritual feet touch the ground, that will be home.  It's not always where your friends and family are, or where you have job security, but where your spirit says, "I am home.  I am where I need to be for this time in my life."  

Working Towards Your Bucket List

 

Edgartown Lighthouse, Edgartown MA

In the movie "The Bucket List" (2007), two terminally ill men (played by Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson) decided to make a list of things they'd always wanted to do before they "kick the bucket".  "The Bucket List" chronicled these two men's adventures as they crossed off the various items on their bucket lists, and how those adventures helped the two men value what was truly important in their lives.  Since then, I've heard people talk about their bucket lists.  It seems as if the bucket list became something everyone should have.  I'm familiar with goal setting and the importance of achieving your greatest desires, but from the movie as well as others' lists, I got the sense that you either have to have a lot of money or be willing to give something up (e.g.: family, career, etc.) in order to fulfill your most personal desires.

During one of our meetings, our women's group decided to compose our own bucket lists.  As I read through my list, I thought about the possibilities of attaining my desires.  I thought about whether I could possibly live in St. Maarten and have a house with a wraparound porch and live next door to my best friend (who, as far as I know, has no desire to live in St. Maarten) and be a mother and travel to all of the various countries I want to travel to and write books that make people cry, laugh, think, and grow and start a non-profit, among other things.  As it hangs on my fridge, I sometimes wonder if my bucket list is supposed to be realistic, or if the act of creating a bucket list is supposed to teach you something about what you really want in life.  I wonder if I'll be disappointed if some of those things don't get crossed off.

My Vision Board

My bucket list is similar to my vision board - it's basically all of those things I wish to have in my life, without a time assigned to them or a plan for how to attain them.  However, one of the things I've learned about making a vision board, or a bucket list, is that the first step to accomplishing a goal or fulfilling a desire is to visualize it - speak it into existence, put the intention out into the universe - however you want to view it.  Just view it!

One of the items on my bucket list is to stay in Martha's Vineyard for two weeks a year to write books.  Last year was my first visit to Martha's Vineyard.  It was a last minute invitation from a friend who was there for a film festival, and I was there only one full day.  Needless to say, my main goals were to go to the beach, visit a lighthouse, and eat a lobster roll, and none of those things happened.  However, I did try fried chicken and waffles for the first time, and I fell in love.

The entire month of July, I participate in an intensive summer program to transition incoming college freshmen to our opportunity program and the College.  I have to plan my vacations around this program.  This year, I planned a week in Orlando to visit Disney World and The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.  Upon returning from that vacation, our planning for the program began in earnest, and the relaxation I felt immediately dissipated.  I've learned that I need to have a relaxing vacation after the program as well.  This year, I remembered my short time in Martha's Vineyard, thought about my bucket list, and decided to go ahead and book a four-day stay in a bed and breakfast on the Island.  This time, I would have the time to do those things I'd wanted to do last year, but simply did not have time for.  In addition, I packed my computer so that I could write if I felt inclined to do so, and if I had time.  

I got in my car, drove to Massachusetts, and took the ferry to the island.  I had my lobster roll.  I went to the beach.  I visited a lighthouse.  And although I did not stay for two weeks, nor write a book in the four days I was there, I started working towards those things on my bucket list.  I was able to attend the Martha's Vineyard African-American Film Festival, where I met many people who are creating and producing stories about the African diaspora.  At the bed and breakfast, I met this funny and adventurous woman who came to the Vineyard from Abu Dhabi for the festival.  She told me stories while we had our coffee and breakfast, and we made each other laugh.  I was able to spend time with my friend, who is doing something he'd dreamed of for many years, and see him in his element, where he is most happy.  I even met one of the stars of a TV series I'd watched for years, and rode the ferry back to Massachusetts with him, talking and joking and laughing.  In that short four-day stay, I felt compelled to write this blog post less than 24 hours after leaving the Island, and I was invigorated and inspired to go back to writing my book.  It was a challenging but relaxing trip, one that helped me grow in many ways and expand my perspective. 

I did not spend two weeks at Martha's Vineyard, but the way I see it, I spent four times the amount of time I spent on the Island last year.  That brings me almost half way to my goal of spending two weeks there.  It gives me a goal to work towards, and I am already making connections and planning how I will achieve that goal in the near future.

Edgartown Lighthouse in Martha's Vineyard helps to illustrate my point.  I could see the lighthouse from far away, but it took me some time to get right up to it.  However, the entire way to it, I was captivated by the beauty of the lighthouse from far away, as well as the foliage around it.  The blue sky, the boats, and the sun glinting off of the water added to the beauty of the actual lighthouse.  Truthfully, it was the big picture that made this lighthouse a sight to see, not the lighthouse in and of itself. 

We all have our goals, our desires, and our dreams.  Whether we write them down, or cut pictures out of a magazine,  it is important to visualize what we want, but not to feel as if we didn't do what we set out to do if it's not exactly what is written on our bucket list verbatim.  I realized that working towards my bucket list is just as rewarding.  As the saying goes, "Focus on the journey, not the destination.  Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it". (Greg Anderson)