New job = Fountain of Youth?

As many of you know, I started a new job this week. My last day of work before this past Monday was June 26th. Yes, I had the summer "off," but during that time I had been looking for new jobs with no success. I know there are so many people in the same boat these days and it's an awful feeling.

Many of you know how I've been feeling about being unemployed, and I'm sure many of you have had similar feelings in your own life.  The feelings ran the gamut from rage at not being seen for the wonderful worker I am to apathy to deep depressive sadness to feelings of complete lack of worth. It's enough to age a person, especially when the help you were hoping to receive suddenly dries up.

Then you watch your savings dwindle as you struggle to pay your bills and maintain some semblance of a social life. Isn't that one of the lovely Catch-22's of the unemployed- you don't have money coming in, but you need to spend money to network, revamp/print resumes and cover letters, pay for gas to get to interviews, buy new clothes/suits... You also don't want to be the downer in a group, so you say "Yes, let's go out to that restaurant/club/movie" and spend the $20-$100 you don't have so that you can spend time with your friends who will hopefully cheer you up and provide some relief from the drudgery of sitting home all day. All of this takes a toll on the psyche and the body.

One of the worst things about being unemployed is the emotional eating. I felt almost itchy with the need to do something, anything, so I ate. It was so frustrating watching all the work I did during the spring and summer evaporate because of my emotional situation.  And even though I knew I was doing it, I couldn't stop myself from doing it. It was so easy to just pour some chips (even if they were organic, sea-salted ones) into a Gladware plastic container and mindlessly cram them into my mouth while sitting on the couch and watching nonsense.

Then I got the news that one of the interviews had paid off. I'd gotten a job! Yes, it's a long-term temporary position, but it's a job! I felt this weight of hopelessness lift from my soul and fill me with a new excitement. The only difficult thing for me is that the hopefullness was tinged with the leftovers from the whole unemployment thing because the money situation has still not improved. It takes time, of course, but time adds up in terms of bills and debt.

One of the best feelings, however, was going into my first day on the new job and being welcomed warmly. Was I put to work right away, of course! But it was work coupled with appreciation for intelligence and the capability to work hard. 

It's hard not to make downward comparisons when I think about what I suffered last year. I'm in a lovely office space, have my own cubicle with phone, computer, garbage and recycling bins... I can go to the bathroom whenever I want (no more need for "teacher bladder"!!); can have coffee whenever I want... There's a cafeteria with yummy selections and plenty of space for colleagues to sit and dine together indoors or outside. And best of all (don't be too jealous teacher friends), there is a whole supply room that I can go to and take what I want. It's like a mini Staples/Office Max. I almost cried.

And copies? Last year I spent hundreds of dollars at Staples copying my worksheets because the copier at the school never worked and had no paper. Then I switched to printing my worksheets on my own printer & re-using the paper again. Now? I can print in COLOR from my desktop as well as make color copies. I'm in heaven. It's so lovely being treated like a valuable human being.

Which leads to the title of this post. When I called my mom at the end of the day she said "So, I'm guessing it was good?" And I asked, "How could you tell?" She said, "Your voice is totally different. You sound happy." Boy, was I! Then I saw Adam for my workout later that evening and he said, "You look younger." How's that for a response?! It's amazing what having a job can do for one's sense of self-worth and pride. While I kept myself busy during my "unemployed" time trying to start a business and find a job, it wasn't something I wanted to brag about or discuss with others.

I think one of the nicest things about this job is that I don't have to take anything with me when I leave. When I was teaching, I'd take papers, books, materials, problems and tons of negative emotions. Now, when I leave, I grab my jacket and my purse and head out the door. It's amazingly liberating. In addition, I don't have to spend hours worrying about the "What ifs" that go hand-in-hand with teaching. I wake up in the morning, get dressed and head out the door with no more worry than getting to work on time. And here's the kicker folks- I'm early every day.  Last year, I had to practically drag myself out of bed every morning because my psyche was trying to protect me from the toxicity. I felt like a shadow of my former self because I used to be early all the time. Now, I'm back to my earlier-than-usual self :) 

So, now I just need to get back into a healthier eating phase and I'll be back on track. This job is providing the healing that I needed and I'm so grateful for it!

I am grateful

I found out today that I'm officially no longer employed. That was a big blow to the ego. I've been working steadily since I graduated from high school and find this to be a bit disconcerting. I spent the morning trying not to vomit, applying for unemployment benefits and applying for jobs. After about four hours of this, I said to myself, "Enough is enough. Time to get up." After all, one doesn't want one's hiney to resemble a computer chair!

My mom gave me some good advice this morning, she told me to pick one or two things that *had* to get done today. The rest was not necessary to think about. That proved to be the one thing that kept me moving today. And move I did! After my "computer work" I was finally able to stomach food, so I had some breakfast, then did a little workout. I haven't bellydanced in a while, so it was fun to turn on Neena and Veena and let the snake arms go.

Then while I was waiting for my laundry, I went on the treadmill and walked for a bit. I saw that there was this journal on the window ledge and picked it up. I'd gotten it for my mom a long time ago, but she hadn't been in a place to use it. It was waiting for me. Inspirations: A Gratitude Journal by Barbara Morina.  This is what I wrote in response to the prompts:

Today's weather/news/current events: Muggy, overcast, Tropical Storm Fred; Obamacare.

Today I feel: Crappy because I got discontinued, yet relieved that I'm no longer bound to the toxicity of that  place.

I am grateful for: Mom, Dad, Rory, Grammie, Auntie, Andrea, Yvette, Heidi, Amy, Adam,  my cousins and my friends; my home, food, clothing and my health.

Spiritually: I need prayers... and to pray.

People in my thoughts: Monica

Magical moments (comfort, peace, and love): Mom hugging me like I was five and had skinned my knee.

For a better tomorrow (Goals, ideas, etc.): I will apply to at least 3 jobs, work on my business plan, work out hard, and find clients. 

I know things aren't fabulous. But, it could be worse... and I'm grateful it isn't.

Favorite things... (an exercise)

*One exercise in The Right to Write is to make a list of 100 of your favorite things and then take out the list to cheer yourself up or remove yourself from the "drama" of life. I decided to take one of my favorite things and just write about that. *

The sun's beam gently washes over her fur, sparkling against the striations of brown, orange, black and white. She's curled up in a ball, defying all logic and making me incredibly jealous at the same time. How wonderful to be able to close in on oneself like that! Her whiskers twitch as she scents something in her dream: a mouse? a bird? a bug? The fierce hunter within her is ready to pounce... but maybe later.

She opens one eye, partly, to see if there's anything for which she should feign interest. Finding nothing, she stretches out of her ball, extending her body to twice its former length. She lays there, looking vaguely sphinx-like in the sun: head held upright, eyes shut, paws outstretched. The sun dances across her fur making its own light show in the sparkle of reflection from her shiny coat.

A flexing of her claws in her sleep suggests contentment- not a cat on the hunt. The model of relaxation, a soft purr reverberates from deep within her chest, modulating in time to her breathing. Her purring, combined with the sun glinting off her fur, is enough to lightly hypnotize anyone nearby.

Her head relaxes, chin falling to rest on her outstretched paws, again defying all conceptions of flexibility. The pose looks so uncomfortable, yet the cat appears boneless, weightless and enviable as she naps in the soft light of day.

"Bad Writing" - an exercise...

(This is an exercise from Julia Cameron's Right to Write- Write a tabloid story... as crazy as possible)

Londonderry, Ireland.

In what appears to be a mass movement, the Tuatha de Danaan have emerged from their fairy mounds and are once again laying claim to Ireland. One observer of the mass exodus from under the hills stated, "They were just floating, tall and serene, more beautiful than anything I have ever seen."

As all in Ireland know, the Tuatha de Danaan conquered Ireland by eliminating or enslaving the Fir Bolg. They were later banished, or retreated, under great mounds throughout Ireland, due to low birth rate. They became the popular reasons for colicky children (changeling); wailing upon the death of a loved one (ban sidhe or banshee) and all other forms of mischief throughout the centuries.

With the re-emergence, one has to question the timing of the move. Many attempted to ask the fae ones questions, but were rebuffed or ignored completely. It was as if the creatures from under the mounds neither knew, nor cared to learn, our language.

Local businesses, homes, and traffic were disrupted for several hours until the Garda remembered that the Fae are allergic to steel and rounded several of them up with steel chains, ostensibly bound for prison. Unfortunately, this was not before several members of the community were enraptured by the ethereal creatures and taken under the mounds with, what appeared to be, fairy soldiers.

It remains to be seen what will happen to the fairies now that they have revealed themselves, once again, to the world.

A story

This is something I wrote as a sort of exercise... comments/feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Looking out over the sprawling prairie grasses, I could see a hill with a tree on it. It reminded me of the fairy mound I saw in Donnegal during my visit to Ireland ten years ago. The sun was beating down on my head, which was, strangely, uncovered in the heat.

There was nothing around me for miles- just grass and flowers; soft blue sky and clouds; and of course, the sun. I could see that tree, branches spread like a leafy umbrella, offering shade to those who could make the journey.

I started off towards the tree, feeling the sweat dripping from my brow and down my face. The shadows rippled under the tree with the changing leaf patterns, little semaphores suggesting shade and rest. It seemed so far away from where I stood among the grasses.

I walked slowly, trying not to sweat any more than I absolutely needed to sweat. I hate sweating, but it’s our body’s way of regulating our metabolism and temperature, so I allow it to happen. Taking a deep breath, I smelled the growing grasses, the rich earth and the wildflowers that populated the field. From the direction of the tree, I smelled a freshness I hadn’t expected- a cool breeze wafted across my face.

I reached the base of the hill upon which the tree stood and was surprised to find someone already there. “Hello,” I said cheerfully. The old woman just stared at me as if I was a bug she’d be squashing in a few moments.

“Sit there,” she said brusquely, pointing to a cushion on the other side of the tree. A cushion. Why was there a cushion under this tree in the middle of nowhere? Why was this woman sitting here, as if waiting for me?

I lowered myself down to the cushion, wishing for the thousandth time that I was graceful and agile instead of a lumbering cow. I leaned my back against the big oak tree’s trunk and closed my eyes, letting the shade cool my fevered body.

“What do you want to know?” The old woman said suddenly, startling me from my meditative reverie. I looked up and moved to go around the trunk.

“Stay there!” She commanded. I stayed.

“What do you want to know?”

I closed my eyes and thought long and hard. It seemed as if this woman could give me answers to questions that had been plaguing my mind for so long. How could I sum that up into what I assumed would be my one chance?

“I want to know why I exist. What is my life’s purpose?” I finally asked. Then I waited for her to tell me to get the hell off her hill and out of her field. She cleared her throat and I thought to myself, This is it- this is where she tells you to either go to hell, or that you’re supposed to have twenty babies before you die.

“Long ago, before the earth and sky separated, there walked a woman named Walani Wahana,” the old woman began in a singsong voice. I settled back against the tree, closing my eyes and listening to the rhythm of her voice.

“Walani Wahana walked the earth and sky not knowing why she existed. She assumed that The Wu had created her for a reason, but she could not understand it. She ran with the horses, seeing their purpose as beasts of burden and transport, but she couldn’t carry as much as they, nor move as fast.

“Walani walked across the face of the earth, stopping each time she met a new creature, to see if that creature’s purpose was her own. She was disappointed, time and again, to find that she shared nothing in common with the creatures of the earth and sky except a creator. She kept walking.

“One day, when the sun was high overhead, Walani was walking and bumped her head against a cloud. She was surprised to find it moist and almost intangible as she tried to learn what it was. ‘What is your purpose?’ Walani Wahana asked the cloud as she rubbed her head.

“’ I bring water to places that have none. I provide shade against the bright sun. I float and help the breeze blow.’ Walani was disappointed to find that again, she had nothing in common with a creation. Walani kept walking.

“One evening, the sun was just about to disappear behind the clouds, when Walani Wahana heard a sound she’d never heard before. She moved quickly toward the sound, recognizing it was one of distress and perhaps pain.

““Help me,” a voice cried from beneath Walani. She looked down and saw that a creature had fallen into a new fissure in the ground. She was surprised to see that he resembled her in many ways, having two arms and legs, one head and no tail. He also spoke in words she could understand.

““Please help me,” the creature said again, his mouth turning down into a picture of distress and pain. She moved carefully to stand over the fissure, bracing herself before bending to help pull him out of the ground’s maw. She stared at him as he struggled to stand upright.

““Who are you? What are you?” Walani asked as he wobbled against her. A trickle of red liquid seeped down his leg, and another was forming along his left ear. He looked at her, eyes pinched in pain, then responded.

““I am Mahana Malanu,” he said softly, as if the strength of his voice had been lost from shouting for help. “I thought I was alone here. So when I fell, I thought I’d die alone here. Then you came, and now I won’t.”

“Walani took Mahana by the arm and led him back to her dwelling place where he could rest and recover from his injuries. He stayed with her a long time. Eventually he was fully recuperated and the time came for him to leave. “

I held my breath, waiting to hear what had happened to Walani and Mahana. I could feel the parallels to my own life- always helping others, always wanting companionship…

The old woman continued the story, “ Mahana was so grateful to Walani for rescuing him that he gave her a child who grew into a strong young man. But Mahana did not stay with Walani for that was not his destiny.

“Many years after her son was grown, Walani took to wandering again. She roamed the earth and watched when the sky separated from the sea. She visited the place where she had met Mahana, but did not cross paths with him again.

“When she became too old to walk any more, Walani settled her bones beneath an old willow tree and rested until her bones were swept away by the earth.”

I was surprised to find tears streaming down my hot cheeks. I had thought Walani and Mahana would stay together- that her purpose was to nurture and love and raise their child. But that didn’t seem to be it at all. I was more confused than when I had first sat down behind the tree.

“That was a beautiful story, but I still do not know what my purpose is,” I said softly, from the other side of the tree.

A rustling laugh came back to me, “Did you think you’d find your purpose in a story, young woman? You find your purpose by living your life, by going out and doing things, not waiting around for them to happen to you. “

I blushed a bright red, although I knew she couldn’t see me. I rose quickly to my feet and went down the hill in the opposite direction from which I’d gone up the hill. I walked faster and faster away from the old woman, the tree and the hill that I soon found myself running through the prairie grasses.

I was stopped, eventually, by a long split-log fence about chest high. I couldn’t see a gate at all along the length of it, so I climbed up and over the fence and dropped to the ground. I needed to get as far away from that tree as possible, and the woman beneath it, who had made me feel such a fool.

-Jean M. Hurley, August 11, 2009

Literary musings...

As I've been reading through the wonderful e-mailed comments I've received from friends and family, I've been thinking really hard about where my strengths and weaknesses lie. I was also really inspired by Julie's blog and what her husband said to her that got her started- what do you love to do when you're not working? She loved to cook- it relaxed her and made her feel successful. She could complete a meal and have the satisfaction of knowing someone else was enjoying it. She received positive, supportive feedback from those who tasted her dishes and felt good. So she decided to use that energy in her chosen career path as writer and combine the two. Thus, the Julie/Julia project was created.

Now, I'm not a big cook. I've been experimenting more as I've come to nutritional awareness, trying to use the bounty of Nature to sweeten my palate, as opposed to over-processed sugars. Do I feel good when I hear the "yum"? You betcha. But it's not something I'm going to do full time. I don't have the patience or drive for it.

What I do have patience and drive for is reading and talking about books. I'm someone who gets wrapped up in a story, falls in love with characters, and cries when they hurt. There are novels I've wanted to jump into, and novels I wish I'd never opened. There are novels I've wished would go on forever, and some which I wish had never been written.

So, I was thinking about this a lot yesterday. How can I combine my love of reading with my desire to write? I already know I have weaknesses with writing my own, original fiction. So, I thought about writing a chapter for books I've loved over the years. Now, could this be called "fan-fiction"? I guess so. But I'm also thinking that this could be a jumping off point for me. If I start writing in different genres, mimicking different styles, I may be inspired to create my own, original works. My writing style may improve.

So, my question to you, dear readers (and please post your comments on the blog, so others can see/respond)... what novels would you like to see have another chapter?

Afraid of my creativitiy

So I've got some issues tapping into my creativity. I feel like there's this artistic genius who is trying to get out of my incredibly crowded brain, but is trapped by fear of rejection and failure. I've been told that I write beautifully, but when I try to write a story, I always end up feeling as if it's a juvenile undertaking- the characters are too flat, the dialogue is stilted, my descriptions are lacking in finesse. I don't know if I'm hampered by the fact that I've been teaching writing to people under the age of 18 for 10 years, or if I'm really incapable of writing a complete work of fiction. A few years ago I started using The Right to Write as a guide, but stopped for various reasons.

So now, I find myself in a position of not having a classroom in the fall and really questioning what I want to do with my time. After seeing Julie & Julia I realized that I had a lot in common with Julie: academically gifted, government employee, unhappy with her life's current direction. I also see myself at a turning point. After the past eight months since I started my mind/body transformation, I see myself as someone with more possibilities than I had thought previously. At the same time, I'm lacking direction- where do I go with these possibilities?

Yes I can sing, but will I make money at it? Probably not. Okay, so there's another thing- I'm too grounded in the "probably not". Maybe I'm too afraid to audition for something because I know there's no shortage of talented singers in the world, but there is a shortage of contracts to be had. I also know that I'm gifted in that I can sing, but my voice is not original. I can imitate Alanis or Sarah McLachlan, but my voice isn't unique like theirs. It's just a good, strong voice.

There are a few things I feel *really* good at: reading, typing, giving presentations, and planning trips to Walt Disney World ;) So, based on that, what do I do with my life? Join the crew at DVC?

It's such a weird feeling- maybe other artistic types can understand/explain... I feel like there's this excitement within me that's always on the verge of breaking out/breaking through/bubbling up, but never quite gets there. It's the potential that's never actualized and it's driving me nuts.