It has been difficult emancipating the control I thought I had on my life.
I’ve spent 10 years becoming the professional I am today. Before that I spent 18 years in school doing my best to learn how to be an adult. Every step was leading me somewhere and I was always working towards something.
Over these past four months I’ve been honing in new skills and exercising relationships and connections in new ways. I’ve been vulnerable and uncomfortable.
Honestly it began as desperation. It started with confusion and anger. But then I told myself I had to work hard to solve this puzzle and find a job.
I have never known what I want to be when I grow up. No job I’ve had was ever a “dream job” but I did my best to work hard at whatever it entailed. And honestly, with my most recent one, I felt like I had truly found a home and something I was good at. I thought I’d be there for a long time.
But it was quite literally ripped out from under me.
I had another meltdown this morning. I was supposed to meet a friend for coffee and my alarm didn’t go off. When I woke up and realized what happened, I called her… crying. Of course that spiraled and I had many many things to say to Jesus… Eventually I picked myself back up with an iced coffee in a cute glass. Metaphorically I’m on a little boat at sea that keeps shooting out flares: still afloat but trying to get someone to hear my cries.
I wrote in my journal for a bit and realized I should maybe turn it into a blog post; I can’t be the only human feeling this way. In this “season of picking ourselves up,” maybe it would help someone feel less alone.
I find I am happiest when I’m reading a good book or when I’m immersed in drawing or writing.
I’ve spent hours sketching cozy scenes and writing novels in coffee shops and libraries. I’m at peace in the moments where I can freely create and ink my heart on paper in some way. I am, perhaps, in love with the feeling of squeezing my soul out in some unconventional manner.
And it is times like these where I am reminded I am not alone.
When beautiful music plays in the background and my hands press the swirls of my mind into letters and shapes, I know that I was made for something (or many “somethings”) greater than a job.
I am reminded that the present moment is all I am guaranteed. And at the end of my life, I will not be remembered for the emails I sent or the money I made— but for how I loved others and shared myself with them.
-CRCH
Anchor | Novo Amor
In Light of Colleen 