Are you happy with your job? Are you where you imagined you'd be in your professional life? Do you wake up in the morning and, for the most part, excited to get to work?
I'm not. But I'd like to be.
I look around at my friends and every one of them seems to have found their rightful place in the world. Every one of them is making great strides at their respective offices, completing interesting projects, or making valuable and prosperous connections, and if they aren't, they are on their way to doing something else, boldly and bravely.
I, on the other hand, often say that I feel like a square peg stuck in a round hole. I just haven't found my niche, my calling, my raison d'être. And I know that it's purely by my own doing. I take jobs that are easy or interesting at the moment but not long-lastingly fulfilling instead of pursuing something I'm genuinely passionate about. And it's because I'm afraid if I fail at it, I'm failing myself.
I'm also terrified of what people will say if I tell them the things I'd like to do. I feel silly and frivolous suggesting things like working in the health field or becoming a dog trainer. I could imagine the thought bubbles emerging from their heads like in a comic book- 'You have no experience.' 'You'll lose more money than you'll gain.' You're too old to start something new.'
Of course no one has actually said these things to me, and in fact, more likely, I am projecting my own fears and questions into the minds of others. I know my friends and loved ones genuinely want to see me happy. Especially Joe...
Before he left for his big trip last week, we decided to head out to a local brewery to toast his adventure and my birthday. It was Friday night, and I was anxious to cut loose after another long week of putting in early mornings and late nights.
We sat outside and after we ordered a few flights of beer, he began excitedly talking about his day and his visit to the bank.
"There were all these pamphlets on small business loans. We could totally do that! Imagine us having our own store-front of vintage items, having a listening room for records or a playing room for old video games..." as his gaze extended well into our possible future, the light in his eyes shining with hopeful promise, my stomach churned.
I tried to change the subject, but he gently pressed to see what was wrong. I kept telling him I didn't want to think about it and stared blankly at my half empty hefferveisen, trying to hide my fear. Then, after we had volleyed a few empty comments back and forth, he took my hands in his.
"Look at me," he said. I did.
"I have a say in your life now. I have a say in how I can make you happy, because that's all I want to do for the rest of our lives. Because if you aren't happy, I can't be."
My body shook, and not just from the progressively chilly, damp air now surrounding us- I shook with the realization that he's right. Being married meant more than just sharing a bathroom and a mortgage- we were partners in the business of making sure we were both happy. Till death.
And it isn't enough to find enjoyment in our social lives; I need to find a way to be happy in my professional life like he had. We tried to salvage the evening but his thoughts had lingered on my mind more than I realized. Even after I hugged and kissed him goodbye in the middle of the night, I felt heavy.
The mood hadn't lifted, even when my friends came over for our book club meeting. Joe's words and expression clung to me and I found it difficult to shake them off and be good company to my friends. After the book had been discussed we all ventured into the pool and began talking about the latest events in our lives. When the subject of work came up, I felt compelled to finally get the thoughts out and see what the girls had to say.
They were supportive, of course, and helpful. They listened intently as I described Joe's and my conversation and how I had yet to find what makes me happy.
"I thought about opening a store, like a record store...," I said.
"Or what about an antique shop?" Alejandra suggested.
"Yes! I would love that," I blurted out without thinking. It took a few seconds for my rational thoughts to catch up and actually consider this idea. I don't know much about antiques or vintage things, but that doesn't mean I couldn't learn. This thought became a tiny seedling of hope that I nurtured in the back of my mind the rest of the afternoon and by the time I went over to visit my parents, it had grown.
"Mom, wouldn't it be fun to open an antique store or a vintage shop?" I said.
"Oh that would be so fun!" my mom replied. I recognized that same gleam of hope and excitement that had been in Joe's eyes that night. It made me smile.
So the next day, the seedling had grown fruit, and I was able to chew on it as I did my work. I came home and began looking up articles about opening and operating some kind of vintage shop. I began coming up with ideas for getting our business noticed and non-traditional ways to buy and sell our goods. I even forced myself to consider my own personal negative scenarios- dealing with rude customers, failing to meet sales goals and running out of money. All terrifying to me...but not as terrifying as waking up at 50 years old and realizing your life has slipped past you because you were too afraid to try and take hold of it. I have to try and save my life. I have to try something- anything.
I can't say for sure this idea will come to fruition. There's so much to still consider and plan out. And I'm not even sure this is what I am meant to be doing with my life. But I have a feeling, surrounding myself in the artifacts of other people who lived and loved, touching the lamps or books or shoes that were loved enough to avoid a trash heap, I might gain a new outlook on my life- in an old, vintage outfit.
I, on the other hand, often say that I feel like a square peg stuck in a round hole. I just haven't found my niche, my calling, my raison d'être. And I know that it's purely by my own doing. I take jobs that are easy or interesting at the moment but not long-lastingly fulfilling instead of pursuing something I'm genuinely passionate about. And it's because I'm afraid if I fail at it, I'm failing myself.
I'm also terrified of what people will say if I tell them the things I'd like to do. I feel silly and frivolous suggesting things like working in the health field or becoming a dog trainer. I could imagine the thought bubbles emerging from their heads like in a comic book- 'You have no experience.' 'You'll lose more money than you'll gain.' You're too old to start something new.'
Of course no one has actually said these things to me, and in fact, more likely, I am projecting my own fears and questions into the minds of others. I know my friends and loved ones genuinely want to see me happy. Especially Joe...
Before he left for his big trip last week, we decided to head out to a local brewery to toast his adventure and my birthday. It was Friday night, and I was anxious to cut loose after another long week of putting in early mornings and late nights.
We sat outside and after we ordered a few flights of beer, he began excitedly talking about his day and his visit to the bank.
"There were all these pamphlets on small business loans. We could totally do that! Imagine us having our own store-front of vintage items, having a listening room for records or a playing room for old video games..." as his gaze extended well into our possible future, the light in his eyes shining with hopeful promise, my stomach churned.
I tried to change the subject, but he gently pressed to see what was wrong. I kept telling him I didn't want to think about it and stared blankly at my half empty hefferveisen, trying to hide my fear. Then, after we had volleyed a few empty comments back and forth, he took my hands in his.
"Look at me," he said. I did.
"I have a say in your life now. I have a say in how I can make you happy, because that's all I want to do for the rest of our lives. Because if you aren't happy, I can't be."
My body shook, and not just from the progressively chilly, damp air now surrounding us- I shook with the realization that he's right. Being married meant more than just sharing a bathroom and a mortgage- we were partners in the business of making sure we were both happy. Till death.
And it isn't enough to find enjoyment in our social lives; I need to find a way to be happy in my professional life like he had. We tried to salvage the evening but his thoughts had lingered on my mind more than I realized. Even after I hugged and kissed him goodbye in the middle of the night, I felt heavy.
The mood hadn't lifted, even when my friends came over for our book club meeting. Joe's words and expression clung to me and I found it difficult to shake them off and be good company to my friends. After the book had been discussed we all ventured into the pool and began talking about the latest events in our lives. When the subject of work came up, I felt compelled to finally get the thoughts out and see what the girls had to say.
They were supportive, of course, and helpful. They listened intently as I described Joe's and my conversation and how I had yet to find what makes me happy.
"I thought about opening a store, like a record store...," I said.
"Or what about an antique shop?" Alejandra suggested.
"Yes! I would love that," I blurted out without thinking. It took a few seconds for my rational thoughts to catch up and actually consider this idea. I don't know much about antiques or vintage things, but that doesn't mean I couldn't learn. This thought became a tiny seedling of hope that I nurtured in the back of my mind the rest of the afternoon and by the time I went over to visit my parents, it had grown.
"Mom, wouldn't it be fun to open an antique store or a vintage shop?" I said.
"Oh that would be so fun!" my mom replied. I recognized that same gleam of hope and excitement that had been in Joe's eyes that night. It made me smile.
So the next day, the seedling had grown fruit, and I was able to chew on it as I did my work. I came home and began looking up articles about opening and operating some kind of vintage shop. I began coming up with ideas for getting our business noticed and non-traditional ways to buy and sell our goods. I even forced myself to consider my own personal negative scenarios- dealing with rude customers, failing to meet sales goals and running out of money. All terrifying to me...but not as terrifying as waking up at 50 years old and realizing your life has slipped past you because you were too afraid to try and take hold of it. I have to try and save my life. I have to try something- anything.
I can't say for sure this idea will come to fruition. There's so much to still consider and plan out. And I'm not even sure this is what I am meant to be doing with my life. But I have a feeling, surrounding myself in the artifacts of other people who lived and loved, touching the lamps or books or shoes that were loved enough to avoid a trash heap, I might gain a new outlook on my life- in an old, vintage outfit.
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