It’s been a long week. I started a new job on Monday. After months of being out of work, I was confronted with a commute, navigating the corporate culture, new skills to learn and an appalling lack of Liz time. My system and my soul was overloaded and I jumped from being excited about the newness of everything and depressed at how little I felt I knew and how alone and unsupported I felt because I am new. It’s not bad to be new, but I’m out of practice.
It’s Friday afternoon and it’s been really slow at work today, which has given me too much time to think. Thankfully, I’m in a mental place where my thoughts are along the lines of “what if I?” and “how can I?” instead of “What am I doing? Why did I say yes? How am I going to make it through this?” (As always, my brutal honesty streak is demanding that I acknowledge that those thoughts took over my head yesterday and even a little during my snowy and too long commute this morning.) There were times this week when I couldn’t see the possibility even in the things I’ve already accomplished and set into place. And most of the mornings I only had the energy for getting ready and playing Farmtown rather than carving out some Liz time or even mentally preparing for the day.
This morning was a little different. I still sat at my computer and gulped coffee while farming. But while I was clicking with my mouse, a voice started whispering “What if I took one Saturday morning a month and went to the Currier and wrote or walked around and looked at the art or even people watch? What if I declared Monday mornings Panera mornings and leave the house super early so I can sit in Panera for two hours before work and write or plan or create? How can I create space for everything that I want to do and balance it with everything that I need to do? What else do I want to include not only in my daily and weekly routine but how can I use what I have to create the life and the business that I dream about? What does that life and business in my dreams look like?”
I took those questions to work with me. They kept me grounded when I was upset about being late for work because the highway was even more of a parking lot than I had planned for. They amused me by playing a game of tag while I was waiting for someone to give me something to do and the words in my head weren’t cooperating with my keyboard and fingers. They gave me hope when they rested and I could ponder the “hows” and “whens” of my desire.
It’s not going to be quick. It’s not going to be simple. It’s certainly not going to be easy. I don’t know what I want exactly or how I’m going to do it. Right now, it’s enough that the desire is there and talking loud enough so I can hear it.