I wrote this piece about a month ago with the intention of posting it to my personal blog. Somehow, it never made it to the publisher. (Go figure – read my last couple of posts, and the reasons may become apparent.) I’m glad it waited, though. It fits better here anyway.
19 July 11
My day didn’t turn out as planned – even without the unexpected closing at the pool. I actually worked my Google Calendar this week with an office-like mentality not seen since May; Rachel (my coach) tells me I’m in the Land of Both right now, giving up a little of the rest time I’ve been cultivating to make room for some work again. Today I had intended to go to my usual 6:30am yoga class, stop home for a little breakfast, get to the pool by 9:30, spend the afternoon crossing off some to-dos (drop off clothes at Goodwill, deposit cash from a craigslist sale, email recruiter re: contract work, knock out some necessary household shopping), then be back at home in time to shower before meeting some other craigslist buyers at 4:30. I made it to yoga (I’m still hitting the snooze, but this survives as a priority), but when I got home I was so sore and exhausted from the Ashtanga class I’d ventured into yesterday that I couldn’t resist a little nap. Which turned into a big nap. At 11:45 I accepted that I’d missed the morning pool time I so love, and resigned myself to an afternoon indoors.
As soon as I’d gotten lunch, though, the phone rang – my craigslist folks wanting to reschedule for the weekend. So… pool time after all! Goodwill, bank, Target, at the pool before 2:00. And then 90 glorious minutes of sitting in my float, watching people and their tattoos, getting splashed by the kids, lounging under the trees, smelling like sunscreen, reading my Eckhart Tolle (and feeling my I Am).
And thunder! Gray skies! Who could have predicted there would ever come a day when this sight would be such cause for celebration, or even attention? To be excited about the rain, for a Michigan girl whose summers were nothing if not gray and always too cold to go to the waterpark. Huh.
No rain today, of course – just a spitting – but worth getting excited about all the same.
So… the back story here is… I quit my job about a month ago, with no real idea of where to go next. That’s twice in the span of about a year, for those of you keeping score out there. I’ve come to see that there was just too much uncertainty and too little security last summer for me to fully embrace what I had planned (and still needed) to do then. (Leaving my very safe job in Chicago and packing up the car with an unsold condo on the market were enough for me at the time. Add to that those very shady movers and you have one young lady who’s ready to settle down and take the first job that will have her.)
After a year of working in… let’s just call it the wrong job, I’d forgotten what I had come back for. Or maybe it seemed like it wasn’t here after all. But it was here. I just needed to open my eyes and see it.
In the past month, I have driven home in a towel and a wet bathing suit more times than I have in all of the 10 years before that. I have slept weekends away without a hint of guilt. (What was there to feel guilt over? I needed the rest.) I have also: