Out to Paint

It’s a new day.  The dissertation is complete, and I am officially what I set out to be several years ago.  Can’t say I feel any different.  Mostly, I’m standing in the center of many forks in the road.  I can’t say that is a favorite place of mine.  I’m rather decisive, so when I am presented with many options at once, I tend to get frustrated.

I have mentioned the dangers of boredom in the past.  This place where I am standing is fraught with the dangers boredom procures.  When I look at moments of dissatisfaction, I have to attribute a good majority of them to being bored.  I am not lazy.  I’m a doer.  But I have to have direction.  That is why advanced learning has been so ideal for me.  I can be autonomous but still have a structure pointing me towards a goal.  I love the academic arena for that reason.  Academics are clear and logical in process, and those appeal to my strong sense of order.  Life goes on with all its mess, but I have had the direction and constancy of intellectual environment to propel me and keep me on task.

So how to make a transition?  You work and work to accomplish a feat, but when you do, it has taken so long, that the completion is anticlimactic, and though it is sitting in front of you all tied up with a nice neat bow, there really is no joy.  It is on to the next obstacle.  I have been sitting in this spot, trying very hard to be excited about something that I spent so much of my life’s time on and worked so hard to accomplish.  But the pull to pay for those student loans that are indicative of an academic achievement of this magnitude is depleting me of rest and peace in the moment.  I find myself scrambling to get something else on the docket just to say I’m accomplishing something, being responsible, doing my part in my little world.

And then there is the boredom thing.  I am compelled to move into the next project, so I do not suffer from the negative combustion that comes from an idle mind.  I have inherited the restlessness from my dad, I know, which is so often the impetus for my traversing large mountains with little more than tenacity.  My husband keeps telling me to relax.  We are fine.  I don’t have to move into a job, especially if it is not in my field.  I so love the man.  I couldn’t ask for better in him.  But I feel I need to be responsible (an eldest child characteristic) for contribution.  So, I keep looking at employment where we live, and nothing rings the “just right” bell.  There is a lot out there in my field, just not in South Dakota.  So, yet another conundrum, and I get to a point where I’m so frustrated with possibilities colliding with constraints that I succumb and walk away to paint my house.

BUT, I know this is a good place, overall.  Despite my character flaws, I am in a good place.  Part of me knows that with clarity.  I have to continually go back to the trust I place in Abba.  It is intentional trust, meaning I choose to trust him with my future and what is best for me and those whom my choices most directly affect.  It is difficult to be over 40 and unsure what it is that you are to do in life.  Having many abilities is no different than having very few.  I have friends who have known for a lifetime that they have one particular thing they excel at, and that particular thing coincides with their passions in life.  I have many things I am equally good at, as do many people, and I find they all coincide with my passions.  So what do I do?  

No one has an answer for me.  This is part of the growth process I am encountering in my spiritual journey.  I have to, each day, sometimes, moment to moment, place my trust in Abba.  I know it may sound silly, but I have a cat who must roam at night.  I hate letting him out at night.  My animals are nearly as much my children as my stepson.  So, I worry.  But I cannot get in a continual twist over this little serial killer I have.  I pray every time I let him out, “Thank you Jesus that you keep Simon safe,” and I let it go.  This simple practice is becoming so much bigger in my life, as I am learning to do the same every time I become fretful about my next step in life.  I must and will rest in that.  

I am sorry that as a mental health professional I have no answers that make sense in a rational sense, for those who do not practice the spiritual component, but I employ what works, because I am a scientist.  I apply method and reason with practical application, and I know that this works for me.  See, it’s not about the outcome.  It’s not about whether or not Simon comes home every morning or not.  It is about me being able to let go of something I have no control over. It’s about me letting go of what may or may not happen in my future so that what I have no control over is unable to steal the joy I have in today.  No matter how many methods I apply, the only really effective means I have found for ameliorating anxiety (and I have agoraphobia, so I know of what I speak) is to dump all my junk and the stupid little human issues I struggle with on a monumental level in Abba’s lap.  It is what it is.

Going out to paint...

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