Derailing the New Year’s Train

Here we are…half-way through the first month of the new year, and I am not in the place I expected to be right now. I don’t mean I thought I’d be in Tahiti on January 16 instead of Springfield…I mean, I thought I would be on a defined path, making great strides toward my life’s purpose. Where I actually am is facing a 12-year anniversary behind the same desk with nothing really to show for it. Don’t get me wrong. I make a decent living, but that’s all I do. I just come here to make money so I can pay my bills. There’s no purpose or sense of fulfillment in the work I do.

When I started working in this office, there were only three other people here, including my boss. I was told of the plans to grow the business, to expand it to at least 15 staff members. A year later, another salesperson was brought on board…and that’s where the growth ended. That was 11 years ago.

2016 was not a great year for the company. In April, we lost that salesperson in a tragic car accident. A month later, another coworker left for a new job. In mid-December, the last remaining “original” employee retired. But all was not lost! My boss’s wife came on board as did a friend of their family to fill the sales roles. We also have an ad for a part-time relations coordinator currently making the social media rounds.

Even with the new additions, and  potential new addition, there’s still a lot of slack to be picked up…lots and lots of paperwork. This is where I come in. I keep at it, doing what I’m asked to do during the day and griping to my husband about it at night. But it’s still the same work…still the same feeling of pointlessness at the end of the day.

As I started my planning for 2017, I kept seeing myself doing something important…even if the “importance” was that it mattered only to me. I meditated, visualized and prayed for guidance about what I would be doing, or which direction I should go. Guess what message I received? None. No message, no guidance. Instead, the year began with sickness, throwing off the schedule I’d set for What To Do on January 1, and every day after. By the time I felt healthy enough to start on my New Year Plans, I was already way behind where I thought I should be. I immediately fell into a spiral of self-loathing, pity and depression. “I don’t matter. The universe doesn’t care what happens to me. I don’t deserve to be happy.” Yeah…it was that pathetic.

I was getting very frustrated. I was mad at myself for abandoning all the spiritual progress I’d made. I was withdrawing from everything and everyone more each day. I consulted my daily horoscope. I started drawing a card from my Rider-Waite Tarot deck and writing about it in a journal, hoping for an answer to my question. Then I saw it…a pattern was taking shape. CHANGE….GROWTH. I’d had my answer all along. It was literally in the cards before me, but I wouldn’t look at it and pretended it wasn’t there. Change is coming for me, probably one that’s forced upon me rather than one of my choosing. But it’s only through change that we grow, right?

I have been resisting and fighting change — I feel so cozy in my comfort zone! I know what to expect in this safe little space I’ve created…there are no surprises and I can just coast on auto-pilot. When I really look at that space with true objectivity, though, I see that I’m not really all that comfortable…I’m bored, restless, agitated…like a caged lion. My comfort zone isn’t a warm blanket protecting me…it’s a prison cell holding me back from creating the authentic life I’m destined for.

That so-called derailment of my new year’s plans happened for a reason… a good reason. I was being rigid and far too sure of what was coming. I needed to let go of defined plans and resolutions. I needed to be patient and trust in the divine timing of the Universe. I needed to know it was okay to stumble because I would be there to catch myself. I realized I was not failing, I was just learning more about me.

I feel strongly that this change coming has something to do with my career…but not to the extremes of quitting this job to start a new one. It feels more like an addition to versus a subtraction from my life. I’m trying to remain patient as I allow the message to unfold on its own…which is difficult — I’m so anxious for something new to start!

I try not to dwell too much on what could be coming, or the awesome growing pains that it will undoubtedly  bring, but I do find myself wondering if maybe there’s something I can do now to push myself a little while I wait. I might be better capable of handling a forced change if I’ve made a voluntary change. If I took a leap of faith and landed safely,  would it instill in me a greater sense of strength and pride? Will it create that voice I need in times of uncertainty and fear? The one that would remind me, “Hey, Teresa…remember how nervous and scared you were to ______ that one time? But you did it anyway and it rocked your world! (Get it girl!)”

I know there’s really only one way to discover the answers to those questions. So, as I climb the tower to the Leap of Faith Diving Platform, I carry this blog along with me. Aside from the random Google bot, no one knows about this blog. I’ve never told a single (living) person about it out of fear….fear of those who purposely twist words for the sake of trolling…fear of misunderstanding and judgment from my friends and family…fear that no one would care enough about what I had to say to even read it. But I didn’t write this for any of them…I wrote it for me.

Now I am standing on the Diving Platform, looking down at the dark, choppy waters below. I remove that cloak of fear and throw it to the wind. Clutching this little blog to my chest, I take a deep breath, smile and jump.

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