It is rare that I find myself out in early evening, it’s a time I’m usually at home preparing food, listening to a small person read, doing those other home based parent tasks.
I found myself heading towards the city centre as other people returned home; commuters. It seems like an age ago that I was a commuter. Smartly dressed returning from work. Carrying a work bag, filled with work things and I yearned for that life again.
I want to stretch my brain, have a life beyond home. Feel I am making some kind of contribution beyond the people under this roof.
The commuters walked with purpose heading in a direction opposite to mine and I wondered how I might join them. How do I step into that rhythm.
I’ve never been a planner more a drifter on the sea of life. Accepting the rough with the smooth and optimistic that the universe will provide. Now I need to take more responsibility.
I don’t want to be sitting at the back of the boat wondering when land will appear, I need to be steering. But I’ve lost my compass. I no longer know my direction. I used to work in the voluntary sector, that seems a long time ago, I’m not sure if that port came into view again how well I’d recognise it. I’m not sure they’d accept my passport and have me ashore.
Is that a lack of confidence holding me back?
Yet when I’m thrown into a situation by circumstance; I had an email asking for some advice for an MSC student, social media and charities. I surprise myself with the contribution I can make.
We have been here almost 6 months. That pulled me up a little short. Time has flown. I have steered away from ‘looking for work’. Over the last few months my time and focus has been on selling a house, relocating, settling a child into school once and then twice. Now and the focus swings sharply back.
I’ve tweaked and rebranded my CV. I’ve taken a small step back towards the job-sites and agencies. In the pit of my stomach pessimism lurks. That I don’t fit in anywhere. That I am not good enough.
Then up looms half term a stark reminder the balance that needs to be struck. I’m about to step back again and turn my focus to my son for a week. If I’m honest it’s a relief, a temporary grace period. Job searching is not an experience that lifts the soul.
There is also a fear, of more time lost. That I’ve not really taken the plunge. Half terms gives me another excuse to shelter from reality. That protects me from facing if I am still employable, finding a direction, selling myself. Facing the very real fear of disappointment.
I can’t hide, because our being here, in the place that is right for us, depends on the success of employment. I have to manage creeping doubts and fears. I have to ignore the pessimism and steer the ship optimism. The water is choppy and I feel like a very small and isolated person in a huge ocean.