If you’re not lost you haven’t really lived

I managed to rise between shifts. Bed at 2am; taxi for work at 5:45am. It did seem a bit crazy, but it was just a half-day and it felt like I should try something new.

I’m clutching at the straws wondering what many jobs could feel like, working here and there. Accepting this. Taking on several jobs. I often wonder what it is all for and what the purpose of it is.

An old boss texted me telling me they are publishing a blog I wrote earlier in the year. I could not feel less competent in my current gig. I couldn’t feel less unmanageable in my previous job.

My family wants me to create a illustrated children’s tale loosely based on my grandma.

And I am lost. There are many options. And I don’t have to compromise; I can explore them.

I have realised my current path makes me happy; but is not financially viable. And the support that might exist, may never exist.

In the midst of this I want stability. I want exercise. I want responsibility. I want financial relief.

Finding a compass

When lost I tend to look at horoscopes, write, reflect, leave things to chance, focus on my values. I tend to believe that I discover more than find. That practice is better than theory.

Right now my compass is telling me to stick the course. This involves making myself and others believe that everything will be okay.

I’m not sure what’s worse; not necessarily communicating how I feel; or being more upbeat than what my worst fears are telling me.

I’ve managed to fix all the basics but probably need another 20% to make progress. I’m kind of stable on a wobbly stepping stone.

I’ve asked for counselling and support. I’ve let go of my anxieties and tuned into those of others. I’ve let those worries worry me; in an act of opening up to empathy.

But beyond what I’ve done in a couple of months, I cannot gaze beyond a couple of weeks into the future. I don’t know what to conjure, imagine or realise.

The Burden of Now

Now feels heavy. Now feels like constantly touching the skins of my worries and letting them give me an electric shock.

When now is heavy, the burden of what next seems impossible.

The gap is relying on the strength of trust and faith that the next stepping stone will appear just and when it needs to.

The taxi at 5:45am for work never showed up. And it doesn’t look like I’m going in. In my head I’m already brewing ideas of what else I could be doing. But it all comes back to what I can afford right now.

I’d like to earn some money and buy myself something. Having said this, I have new glasses and sunglasses arriving. I’ve seen a few clothes in a charity shop I’d like. My fridge and freezer are miraculously full.

I realised I am no longer learning skills. I’m learning what life is to so many people. I’m learning the imperfections of reality and adapting to these by being tactical to life.

I’m learning about my anger at forces larger than me for allowing us to head towards catastrophe against things that I am totally powerless against. That this catastrophe doesn’t mean the end, just a new story. I’m learning there is always another way. I am living proof that there are no defined outcomes.

There is no answer to feeling lost; but there is an important choice. You can either panic at not knowing where you are or take the opportunity to discover the joy of exploring.