Destiny

destiny_fate_1

I’m sure by now you’ve realized that I’m unemployed. Well, that’s not exactly true. The correct term is “underemployed,” meaning, I am working in a job that does not fully utilize my skills and abilities and/or only working part-time when I would like to be working full time. In my case, it’s and – I’m working part-time in a job that doesn’t come close to utilizing my skills and abilities.  It’s frustrating, and it sure doesn’t pay the bills.

 I went to college, twice. I followed “the plan.” And by following “the plan,” I mistakenly thought I’d never be in this position. I’d put in my sweat and toil hitting the books, so I could graduate, twice, and have a fabulous career. But now I’m faced with another little semantic glitch – job vs. career. Albeit, I’m underemployed, I do have a job, but it’s nothing close to the career I’d hoped for.

For some strange reason, I feel like there’s something I’m supposed to be doing – my destiny, if you will – but I can’t figure out what it is. It’s like having a word on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t spit it out. And the worst part is, I feel like it’s something important, something meaningful. I’m missing something big, but what?

I guess, in addition to the map and the flashlight, I’m looking for a sign – un segno di Dio – something, anything, that will point me in the right direction. It’s like the longest treasure hunt in history. I’m digging and digging but coming up empty.

Do any of you feel this way? Like you’re not in the right place or doing the right thing? Sometimes I look at other people, and I can just tell that they are exactly where they are supposed to be, doing exactly what they were meant to do. I get jealous of those people. How did they get there? Who gave them the neon billboard that told them what they needed to do? Did they end up there deliberately, through careful planning and execution, or was it merely by happenstance? Was it destiny?

That said, is everyone’s fate predetermined? Is destiny real? How much control do we really have over our lives? Why is it that we seemingly do all the right things, follow the plan, and, yet, we end up in completely the wrong place? Or is it the wrong place? I’ve got a fabulous imagination, but I absolutely cannot postulate that this is my fate, where I’m supposed to be. I cannot fathom this is my destiny.

So what do I do? I guess I keep butting my head against the brick wall, begging for my map and my flashlight, hoping that, eventually, I’ll make it through and my destiny will become clear.