Sorry about the teaser headline, this one isn’t actually going to be about “shagging” although yes… I do have a shag rug, and I have shagged on it. It’s a great place for the act known by the same name.
It’s 8:30 and I am just sitting down to write (although strangely enough I was convinced that it was after 9 already just a few minutes ago. I guess I need to learn to read a clock) which means I have been avoiding it… which is part of a super fulfilling (<--sarcasm) cycle of avoiding what works and dwelling in what doesn't. I was in a nasty-ass mood today. I was sitting at my desk strategically avoiding the project with the closest deadline by doing anything and everything else I could to do to feel productive all under the guise that the little things were distracting me and once I had finished them all I would be able to “focus.” And I was getting no where (you could have guessed). Actually, scratch that… I was getting somewhere. I was getting to sad sack head space. You know, that place where I’ve convinced myself that no one loves me and my life is meaningless and everything I want is out of reach and everything I need to do to feel differently is too hard. So I took a walk. About a block away from the office with the tears welling in my eyes I realized I was wearing my glasses-glasses, and not my sun-glasses. (Note to self: when taking a walk to cry… wear sunglasses… keep the mystery alive.) Crying didn’t feel like a safe option so I opted to phone a friend instead. I called Trixie who answered (hallelujah) and pretended to be fine for most of the call (mostly because I knew what I wanted to cry about-thinking no one loved me-wasn’t really the problem and I hoped that if I took a step back from it and eased in slowly that I would find myself where I needed to be). It mostly worked. I started bitching about work. I have a great job, for the record. I get to do something that I love to do, with a great team, in a flexible and accommodating environment… I have nothing to complain about (but that doesn’t stop me from making something up to complain about). I have been struggling lately with what I’ll describe as my ability to “stay connected/engaged with my work and the mission of the organization I work for.” I am inspired and excited often, but it wanes and wears off way to quickly and even though no one is asking me to do anything I dislike or is against my personal values I am not thinking about work 100% of the time and it’s such a sharp contrast from what I’m used to that find it very difficult to feel what I’ll describe dramatically as disconnected… I was TOO connected to my last job. After being there for 10 years I had made it my life… and it hadn’t made me its… I did not have a healthy work/life balance. I got a lot of personal fulfillment from being the person who knew everyone and (almost) everything. I knew I wanted it to be different at this new job, and it is… and I find myself struggling. After whining about it for a while Trixie insisted that she couldn’t hear a problem (which pissed me off… and I told her so… yay for saying how I feel in the moment! yay! are you cheering? yay!) and then apologizing for sounding dismissive of my feelings she suggested that I might just not be used to a healthy work-life balance and just doing a job well and then going home and not thinking about it might be creating a lot of discomfort for me. Yeah yeah… true… but it still feels shitty!
|anticlimactic punchline for the win|
Then… she asks me if maybe I’m coming down from being in crisis-mode for the last year. Maybe my poor brain and body are so used to being flooded with adrenaline and cortisol that this neutral existence I’m in is challenging? Without all the crisis of the past year (divorce, single parenting, moving, new job, dating, new relationship…) maybe there was all this space and my brain was doing what it thought it should–trying to fill it up. And, of course, trying to fill it up with crises.
Yep, that was it. That one clicked. Damnit… Yes. Shit. Ugh. Yeah… I don’t have much more to say about it than that. Things are so neutral right now… hell, a lot of things are good (great even!) and without a bunch of bullshit to contend with, I’ve taken it upon myself to create bullshit. Because I am really good at dealing with bullshit! I get to rise above. I get to choose empathy and compassion. I get to be strong… vulnerable… grow and transform at a rapid pace…
Which… as I hung out with that idea for the rest of the day, told me something else. This need to be in crisis to feel competent… it’s just an excuse to play small. It’s a way to fill up all the time and energy with things and ideas that prevent me from taking REAL risk.
The year is almost over. This seems like a good thing to have figured out right about now don’t ya think?