My Hiatus

Alright.  Time for a heart-to-heart.  Why am I just now publishing a post from December (which, truthfully, was slowly plunked out between October and December)?  And, while we’re at it, what was the deal with this long blogging hiatus??

Okay, reason:

Those several months that I stopped blogging?  They were tough…and it’s not quite as fun sharing the tough stuff.  It’s easy to share the adventures, the mishaps, the joys and excitement...  Admitting that times are tough?  Well, that’s tough in itself.  What made them tough??  Let me fill you in…

15. Transitions aren’t easy.   

Maybe they are easier for some people over others, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s this: Even the most spontaneous and transient individuals struggle with change.  Honestly, I think it is part of the human condition.  I mean, I love adventures; I enjoy tackling new challenges—but through every transition in my life, it seems there is a little bit of a turbulent period in there somewhere.  And until the next transition point, I always seem to forget this about myself…Why??   

So, in the very beginning of this adventure, things were kind of one exciting blur.  But once we began to settle in to this life in Boston, several real truths confronted me head on:

a.)    I did not have a job 

This lasted for around two months.  Looking back, this doesn’t seem like a very long stint of time—but let me tell you, it was long enough for me. Of course Aaron spent his days at work, which meant, for about two months, I spent my days alone. In the beginning, this felt great.  I mean, WHAT a deal!  I had the freedom (and time) to do whatever I wanted in this new city...So I spent a good majority of my days job searching, fixing up the apartment, studying for my MTEL exams (for MA teaching licensure), and doing some exploring. But as time passed, job searching became fairly discouraging, the apartment reached a fairly fixed up stage--and let’s just say, with slim-to-none social contact during the day, I began to feel pretty lonely.  And this really started to wear on me—which I actually had a hard time reckoning with.  ‘Why can’t I just enjoy this period of freedom?’ I reprimanded myself.  ‘Do I really need a job to feel happy…to feel like I have purpose??’  What I didn’t realize at the time was this: It wasn’t necessarily the lack of a job that was really leaving me feeling empty.  It was the lack of community.  The fact of the matter was 

b.)    We knew VERY FEW people here. 

Throughout this period, this truth kept hitting me like a ton of bricks.  I think the scariest part was, if we didn’t put forth an effort, we would continue to know very few people here.  Turns out this whole “finding a niche”-in-a-new place thing is a lot harder—and a lot slower of a process— than ever imagined.  I was forced to revisit the scary question of my freshman year in college, that stark question that accompanies “starting over” scenarios: ‘How do I make friends, again?’  Not an easy question for people who have recently left stable, familiar, broken-in, friend-and family-saturated environments.  In college you are surrounded by people your own age and are practically forced to see them day in and day out through classes, events, sports…Reality check: That doesn’t happen in the outside world.  You really have to work to meet people.

I knew the first step was just getting out into the community.  The problem was, I was losing my motivation—my motivation to job search, to meet people, to get to know the area.  Some days it was a struggle to even get myself out of the house—even though that was what I needed most.  And the kicker: I was angry with myself for being in this slump.  Nothing like being in a slump and beating yourself up for it... 
 
All of this hadn’t really bothered me before, I mean, Aaron and I had each other—wasn’t that enough?  At least for now while we were getting settled??  Don’t get me wrong, I always enjoyed my night and weekend time with Aaron—but, after a while, I began to dread the point when he would leave for work and I was left to face the day alone.  Once this began having an effect on my day-to-day emotions, I knew something needed to change. 

First change:  I needed to take control of those reins of life—instead of letting them control me.  I held the key to my own happiness.
Second?  Have confidence.  I could do this.  I was capable.  I had a lot to offer Boston—so WATCH OUT blunt, bean-eating people.  HERE I COME!!!
Third: Recognize that I was not alone.  There were others out there who had been unemployed way longer than I had been—and some of them trying to feed a family.  There were others out there trying to carve niches for themselves in a brand new place just like I was.  And even if I didn’t have a close network of friends surrounding me in Boston, there were all sorts of people around the United States—and beyond—who cared about me, and who were willing to offer me advice and support.  And of course I had Aaron by my side.  We were jumping into this crazy thing together.
Fourth: Take note of all of the wonderful things that surround me in my life.  For one thing, I had an amazing fresh start at my finger tips.  The possibilities were endless!
Fifth: Stop punishing myself for feeling down.  It was okay for me to feel sad sometimes.  It was okay for me to miss my friends.  This was a natural part of the transition.  Ironically, I think allowing myself the occasional sadness increased my overall moral. 
But with that being said…
Sixth: Limit the amount of time I felt sorry for myself
One day when I was down-and-out, Aaron reminded me of a piece of advice offered in the book Tuesdays With Morrie. In this book, author Mitch Albom tells of moments spent with his friend Morrie in the final days of his life—a time in which Morrie beautifully shares life lessons learned throughout his days.  In one particular instance, Morrie tells Mitch he gives himself 15 minutes a day to feel sorry for himself—just enough time to realize that this act doesn’t do him a whole lot of good. 
Upon testing this out, I found that this made a lot more room for moving forward with my life.
Seventh: Utilize this time as an opportunity to grow
Though Aaron and I came to Boston together, we were still our own people with our own individual needs.  And even though we had each other, we both needed an “outside world” (a world outside our relationship) just as much as any other person.  In fact, I think one of the biggest conclusions that I have come to upon being out here is this:

16.  We are better able to grow in our relationships with others when we provide ourselves with outlets to grow as individuals


With all of these goals in mind, I forged ahead... 

And would you believe it?  When I started to look up, slowly but surely, so did life.

On that note, I leave you with this:

17. Dropping an oscillating fan into a full litter box leads to an exciting series of events.