There is part of me that says I have no idea what I'm doing. In many ways that part of me is absolutely correct.
I've had a job in some form or fashion since I was 16 years old. That's 23 years. Twenty-three years of pretty much "knowing" what tomorrow will look like, and the day after that, and the day after that. Twenty-three years of feeling somewhat secure, confident in my work, looking forward to pay day and of course happy about that good ol' health insurance stuff.
So what does one do on a Sunday night when they know they don't have to be in the office on Monday morning, or the day after that and the day after that? I don't know what most people would do but here's what I did. I laid there in my bed that evening thinking, "Oh, my God. I don't have to get up and go to work tomorrow. (Insert long pause) OH, MY GOD! I DON'T HAVE TO GET UP AND GO TO WORK TOMORROW!"(insert mini nervous breakdown followed by pep talk to get ahold of myself). I managed to calm down and reminded myself that my family was fine. The internal dialogue went something like this...
"We're all healthy. We have a roof over our head. We have food in the fridge and yes, you don't have to get up and go to work tomorrow but it doesn't mean you don't have work to do. This is an amazing opportunity to design your tomorrows. You'll figure it out."
I got up on Monday morning and made my daughter the best breakfast in the history of breakfasts complete with fresh blueberry muffins and then I did something I've never done in the morning.
I sat down at the table and I ate with her.
I totally disrupted our morning routine of getting her situated at the table with a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice while I simultaneously put together her lunch for the day, signed whatever needed to be signed, made her toothbrush, brushed her hair, fed the dog and the fish...you get the picture.
I sat down and spent time with my daughter instead of rushing us both out the door in a whirlwind of coffee, laptop computers, and Paw Patrol backpacks. I sat there and realized that too often what I had been bringing home to our table was leftovers. The energy I had leftover after early mornings, late nights and hours in traffic. The stress I had leftover from whatever had transpired throughout the day. The leftover work that needed to be completed before I went to bed. Instead of getting all that I had to offer, my family was getting the scraps.
After holding back tears as I spread butter on a warm blueberry muffin I managed to get her off to school and then I poured myself into things that I love and that I'm curious about. I had given up the search for a corporate title for Lent so an official job hunt was not on the agenda.
Truth be told I was in desperate need of a break, exhausted actually, and since I'm practicing operating from a place of thriving instead of surviving, I took one while I wondered about and wandered around what my next "thing" would be.
I spent days imagining, discussing, curating and sometimes stumbling my way through what Contemplate Houston will look like.
I spent days sewing, designing and discovering that I actually had a small business waiting to be hatched from the very table I had enjoyed breakfast at with my daughter.
These days my day-to-day consists of a lot of figuring out how this new journey will unfold. It's confusing, it's unclear. I've made a lot of mistakes. It's also really exciting, full of Joy and the most alive I've ever felt in all of my 23 years of work.
I may not have the day-to-day figured out but I do have a bigger vision in mind and as more and more days pass I'm able to look back and see how all of it is actually coming together pretty well. I'm comfortable with being lost because I feel it's in the right direction.
I've realized leftovers are good when we're talking about food. Not so appetizing when applied to a life lived.
May your days be filled with compassion, your faith remain strong, may growth be your compass and joy fill your tables.