"Being comfortable makes me uncomfortable." I have been teased for that phrase several times. No, it is not some vain attempt to place myself among famous quotists of our day. The phrase simply sums up my auspicious quest for purpose, destiny and the like. But until recently, it has never resounded louder. Reality is punching me in the throat and I have no defenses. However, I have to take responsibility here. I do this. I run away from comfort. In fact, all my major decisions in life have been made primarily because I got comfortable, complacent...dare I say it: content. Once I snuggled into a corner of life, dug a groove and grew roots, I needed to get up and move. I needed to relocate and restart the growth process (including pain & rejection). I could be noble and say it's because I want to perpetually learn. After all, learning occurs on the cusp of growth and change. But to be honest, it's probably because I'm fearful. I'm fearful of being mechanical. I'm fearful of repeating myself without purpose or pursuit. I'm fearful of plateau. I'm scared of routine. All human beings are afraid of these things on some level. It's just typically people with Autism who are happy with that lot. Some find their comfort in a world without change or catalyst. Some love control and predictability. I hate it.
I will never forget the day I discovered this. It was the 2nd semester of graduate school and I was packing my food for the day. It was a Tuesday, which meant I had class from 4:30 pm until 9:30 pm. This meant I not only had to prepare my lunch for work but my dinner for school that night. I took two frozen meals from the fridge and placed them in my bag. I zipped it up and poured my morning coffee. I then sat down and proceeded to have a mini panic attack. At 6:30 am, I knew everything that I was going to be eating for that day. Already! There would be no adventure of discovery in the fridge as I try to create a unique concoction for supper. No weighing the options of eating out that night and no audacious trips to a vending machine at work. No, I had everything planned, all that was left was execution. My day hadn't even started and I was already bored. I thought to myself, "who wants to live like this?" If all the adventure I got was unearthing the mystery of what my meals would look like for that day, then so be it. I wasn't going to rob myself of that.
That was the last time I packed both meals.
I had been living my life of "unpredictability" for some time by then. I just never knew why I was. I had come to Chicago, left all my family and friends behind and started over. I studied the first thing that interested me, made as many friends as I could and laid a foundation that I couldn't easily get away from. I wanted to make a new home here apart from St. Louis. But then again, I knew I could only keep that up for 4 years. I took the first job offered to me and again hit my life's reset button. That life blew up in a poetic irony sort of way. So I started over at a different job. I was good at that job, my talents were recognized and I was given a promotion, a raise and more responsibility; all within 3 months of starting. But then...I plateaued. I learned all I could, got as far as I wanted to go and hit a dead end. Luckily, I got married and had to move again. Ergo, new job. AGAIN, I became alive with excitement and challenge, mastered the art of the position and drew all I could from it. After about 6 months, that reset button was looking mighty tempting. I forced myself to stop my destructive pattern and reflect on my experiences. I was determined to put these to proactive use. I knew I enjoyed the same aspect of each job that I had had to date: teaching. I liked training new people or helping to unravel a difficult case. I liked being the possessor of knowledge and serving those around me. I was good at explaining things and demanded good communication. I was a leader without meaning to be and respected without trying. So I needed a new challenge, a new opportunity, some type of career that is void of plateau and a had a constant catalyst of change. I needed to be an educator. I needed to blend all of my dreams in life into a one word career that was simple, yet aligned to my talents. I don't want predictability in my job. I want to be challenged, I want to use all of my aptitude and ability beyond their typical evidence.
(My husband likes to call me "the queen of metaphors", so here's one for ya...) I want to make Michaelangelo's David just using play-doh.
I could wrap all of this back around to my general theme of movement, achievement and goals but this time, it's not really about that. Mostly, it's that my dreams of being a teacher are around the corner from becoming real and I'm scared to death.
I blame Eleanor Roosevelt.
When I took my job at Action For Children I had one of those default screen savers that everybody gets. It was filled with pictures of kids & families, quotes from our founder and statistics. But there was one slide that I will never forget. A picture of dopey, plain jane Eleanor next to her famous quote, "Do one thing every day that scares you." I looked at the screen saver for almost a year before I took hold of that challenge and signed up for grad school. It is 1 year later and the finish line is in sight. So there you go Eleanor, I'm freaked.
And it feels great.
No comments:
Post a Comment