Well, admittedly, to say that everything is going “perfectly according to plan” would be a gross over-statement…. But then again, I didn’t really expect that. Of course, in the perfect world that exists only in my mind, I’d get here and within a week have an apartment, land a great job, be locked in with my 50 newest best friends, and only look back to enjoy a text or chat from a friend/ family member from back home. (Winning the lottery or inheriting millions probably would have happened along the way, too.)
Guess what? Hasn’t happened.
I knew this “ideal” in my head was 100% unrealistic and 1,000% unlikely to happen.
The “perfect” apartment fell through this week, I’m babysitting a little bit, jogging and going to Pilates a lot, still sending out resumes/ completing job applications, and doing the “happy dance” around my borrowed apartment when a recruiter calls or when I get an unexpected phone interview… While trying desperately to stand perfectly still (which is SO not my style) in the 1 spot of the apartment that has “2 bars” of service on my phone…. Because nothing says “hire me” like dropping their phone call 3 times, right?
I’ve been meeting lots of new people, having a great time connecting with old friends, and getting enough “action” from the resumes/ job applications I’ve sent out to keep my sanity. I saw apartments yesterday, and will see MANY more today… Hopefully the hunt for the “perfect apartment” (read: passable apartment) will be over tomorrow. Getting that taken care of (for the 2nd time) will greatly reduce my stress level and will allow me to “game plan” for the rest of the month.
While I am happy to say I still haven’t had any “oops, was this a bad idea” moments or real bouts of “homesickness”, I felt strangely nostalgic for some of the old things back in NOLA… It put me in a funky head space, and it took me a little while to figure out what that was about…
I wasn’t wanting my life back before I left… It wasn’t fun; that’s why I left… It was a precarious situation occupationally, and it truly didn’t make sense to be there- financially or professionally. However, when I found myself reading every e-mail that came to my phone from my school e-mails and felt sad about the fact that I wasn’t at meetings that I always HATED and tried to sneak out of, I was creeped out. When I almost teared up in the apartment rental place lobby after hearing two songs on the radio I had done with “my kids”, I kinda scared myself. …And when I saw all my NOLA teacher friends posting status updates on FB about the first day back and seeing everyone, etc… I admit it… I cried.
…And then I realized whether I was in NOLA or Chicago, that moment would have happened. That life was a life I enjoyed for a time, but it wasn’t my life anymore… and that’s part of me moving forward… and upward… and onward. It’s been a part of this plan for a LONG time, long before moving ever appeared on the scene. I’m not a teacher anymore, at least not in the formal sense. I miss my kids. I miss the fact that I won’t be going over Casals’ “O Vos Omnes” for the next month, until I dream all 8 parts in my sleep and sing it all day, without even realizing I’m doing it. I’m not picking out rep and being super excited about my first rehearsals with my ensembles. I don’t meet new kids or figure out my “first day of school” outfit this year. …And while it is a good thing, and something that I always planned on doing, I think that reality sunk in a bit over the past few days. I would imagine this “reality” may have a little sting again on Monday when the kiddos go back to class….
I came to the conclusion it wasn’t really helpful or necessary to have my former schools’ e-mails syncing to my iPhone… After all, I don’t work there. It was time to cut the technological umbilical cord.
I firmly needed to be in the “after that” space… No more pretending to straddle both lives. No more doing things for a job that I no longer hold. Remembering and realizing that I left for a reason… for a bunch of reasons… a bunch of reasons that were really freakin’ good, in fact.
I think a big part of my hesitancy to embrace “after that” has been because the full version of “what’s next” has yet to fully present itself…. So being in “after that” means being in limbo, the waiting place, whatever you want to call it…
(This is where I laugh hysterically at myself.)
We know I love waiting.
I was talking last night with one of my best friends, and we were discussing this topic of faith and what do we do when we are in this awkward space, between things, waiting, feeling uneasy and unsure, clearly understanding that something is done & over (even if you still have a multitude of feelings about it) but not totally knowing what’s next or what to expect from “next” or when it is coming. The situations can be different, but these times happen to all of us… and it’s scary shit.
My friend mentioned that they recently had seen a great talk on the internet by this guy from a church talking about this very thing… I watched the talk, and I found it to be pretty fantastic, and pretty applicable to my life right now.
The speaker called this time “Saturday”. He compared these types of times in life to Saturday in the Holy Week story… we all know what happens on Friday, and we all rejoice in what happened on Easter Sunday… but no one really talks so much about the Saturday. It was somber. People were waiting. People didn’t know what was next, or when it would be. Something had happened… something big… and things were not as they had planned or expected. So, they waited.
Granted, waiting does NOT mean doing nothing… it means exploring, looking, seeking, hoping.…And having faith that the Sunday is coming, even if it isn’t the Sunday you expected or planned for.
The speaker aptly pointed out that most of life is spent in “Saturday” time.
I am in a Saturday time, and I’m going to try to embrace it and enjoy it for the gift that it is.
I’m not there, I’m here.
It’s a “before this” and “after that” time.
…And I think I get that now.
…The good news is, we all go out on Saturday night, right? 🙂