I’m really not so good at transitions. I blame this on endings. Endings always entail a loss of familiarity, of routine, of comfort. Endings signal an imminent onslaught of changes and unknowns and scary things – much like turning out the light at the end of the day and walking by the black maw of the closet, running past the inky window, and leaping to your bed to keep your feet from the grasping tendrils of the darkness from beneath the bed.

For whatever reason, we’re expected to grow out of our fear of endings, just as many of us outgrow a need for night lights. However, I’ve determined that I’m only less scared of the dark because I’ve learned what things make shadows and bumps in the night, and rationalized my fears into manageable nigglings. The thing is, with many adulty endings, we haven’t had enough experience with those situations to be able to understand and predict what darkened corners we’ll have to traverse…and they’re scary.

I became unemployed 2 weeks ago, with high hopes for my next interview. And then for the interview after that. And I occupied my thoughts of endings with vacationing in bright sunshine. But as we drove back to reality from our sunny vacation and I read the email that confirmed the passing over for yet another position, the stomach pit opened its gnawing maw and I was unmoored.

So I stayed up late and began a blog post.

When I scroll through my past entries, the most serious and introspective posts came at times of trial or transition. The monsters in my unemployment closet have shrunk a bit and lost some teeth in the past year, but I still hate to turn out the lights.

Now I have to re-evaluate what I desire in my life. I’ve been handed a clean slate, to write another chapter of my epic – or choose a different genre entirely. Reflection and introspection require looking into dark places, sweeping out corners, airing out closets; perhaps that is what I am really, truly, adult-ly afraid of.

So, in this sabbatical of presently undetermined length, I purpose intentionality, presentness, and perspective.
I want to know that each of my moments has a piece in the overarching plan of my life and the Creator’s intent for it – my “Personal Legend”*.
I wish to be aware of how “now” feels, neither fretting for the future nor perishing in the past.
I purpose to take a wide-angle view, seeing both the importance and the smallness of my contribution to humanity.

I’m not sure how long this sabbatical will last, but I’ll do my best to cherish it. ❤️

*concept borrowed from Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist. Read it.