Monday, November 29, 2010

Oh yeah, I'm totally going to keep this blog updated.

Le sigh.  No excuses this time.  Should I just be thrilled that it has only been a month and not 4?  Should I care as this is only for me?  I miss writing. I miss bandwidth.

The weekend at the ocean was just what I needed.  More than what I needed.  I spent too much time wrestling with my current job situation--vascillating between furious anger, deep despair, mourning, calmness.  It was an emotional tempest that caused me to sleep 10-12 hours a night with a 1-3 hour nap in the middle of the day.   I want to love this job. I really do.  I feel like if I don't have too much craziness, it could be something I love.  I just feel like I've been treading water for 6 months and my arms are getting really tired at this point.  I may drown at any minute.

  Exhausted from the absolute panic that I feel many days that things are getting away from me, are too big for me.  This job is doing a fabulous job of pushing all of my "not good enough" internal buttons.  I don't feel competent and often feel like a fraud.  I'd like a little less chaos.  A little more feeling like I am at least sort of on top of things.  Perhaps that comes with more experience.  Or maybe  a few less challenges.  I don't know.  I want more calm. I want to grow, not just make room to exist.

And while this tempest was happening in my head, I needed to be near the ocean.  It would have been a lot worse had I been landlocked.   I feel like I can rest when I can be near the ocean.   It is, I suppose, a return to Mother.  She is unfathomable, vast, mysterious, and life-sustaining.  And being with Her--really being in Her presence--makes me realize how small and inconsequential my life is, how meaningless it is.  Instead of being terrifying, I find it soothing and a homecoming.   I can return to my Right Mind.

And so, I return.  And today was filled with my PI touching base with me (finally!), being able to talk to my supervisor about my concerns about growing our program, finding support with my supervisor (also with terrible workaholic tendencies) about how we need to remind each other that our place of employment is not a lifestyle.    Sure, everything blew up again--but I feel like I have some air again.  I'm guardedly hopeful. 
Perhaps I am a fool .  No "perhaps" about it, I'm sure.

If nothing else, I feel less like a "victim" at this point with this job.  I feel like I can draw boundaries.  I can do it in other places in my life, I can do it here too. 

And so, with some more bandwidth and rules, I hopefully start to reclaim my life again.

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"Every morning I awake torn between a desire to save the world and an inclination to savor it. This makes it hard to plan the day."

-E.B. White

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