Destiny

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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.

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Swimming…

ellen-dory-finding-nemo-2__oPtDuring my post-op recovery, I’ve probably watched 50 movies, some more than once…some more than twice. While I know there aren’t too many people reading this, I’m still embarrassed to admit how many times I watched Finding Nemo. It’s one of my favorite movies, not just animated, but all movies. And I LOVE Dory. Okay, I love Crush too, but that’s another topic for another day.

Let’s face it, Dory has issues and lots of them. But she’s warm, and sweet, and loyal, and, despite her issues – I guess her short-term memory loss could even be considered a disability – she doesn’t quit. She just keeps swimming.

Maybe I watched that movie multiple times because my subconscious was trying to tell me something in a kind way, instead of bashing me over the head because I’m too stubborn to take subtle hints. Maybe I was supposed to watch these animated creatures have things they love taken away, and struggle, against seemingly insurmountable odds, to regain some of what they lost.

Their journey is wrought with problems and adversity, but, despite dangerous challenges, they meet amusing characters and engage in compelling adventures along the way. They learn things about themselves and begin to question all the things they thought were true, the way they were certain things were supposed to be. They learn how to have fun.

Perhaps the most important lesson learned was that of letting go, learning to trust themselves and those around them. When we have things taken away, our first instinct is to hold on tighter to whatever is left. In our panic, we cling with such ferocity that we sometimes cause what’s left to implode, and we’re left, ass on the ground, in the middle of that damn impervious forest.

But not Dory. She’s in the middle of the vast expanse of ocean, not knowing where she is or where she’s going – okay, she knows she’s supposed to get to P Sherman 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney, but it’s not like she has a map or a flashlight. Somehow she just trusts that she’s going to get there. Irregardless of all her issues, she finds the strength to hold Merlin up as well. Quitting is never an option.

So, despite the fact I’m not really sure where I am or where I’m going (it’s probably not P Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney, but who knows?), maybe I need to take a few lessons from an animated fish. Perhaps I need to loosen my grip, not cling so tightly to what’s left, and trust that, somehow, I’m going to get where I need to be. Maybe, if I just keep swimming, I’ll make it through…

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Transform

19992_519875024709517_1016724975_nIn the movie “The Wedding Date,” Dermont Mulroney’s character says to Debra Messing’s character something to the effect of, every woman has exactly the love life she wants, and, when she’s ready to let go and be un-single and un-miserable, she will. It’s kind of a slap in the face, but it was seemingly the slap in the face she needed to move forward. (Of course the drunken sex on the boat with Dermont probably didn’t hurt!)

Perhaps the same is true not only about a love life but a life-life as well. Maybe when we get stuck in the middle of the dark forest and can’t seem to find our way out, is it possible that we are, in fact, exactly where we want to be? Are we there because we literally can’t see the forest for the trees?

Of course I want to find a great job, have money and happiness again, and get out of this morass of crap in which I find myself. But do I want it enough? Do I want it enough to claw my way through this miserable cocoon I’ve woven around myself and transform into the butterfly? Do I, in fact, have the exact life I want at this moment in time?

A scary point to ponder…