So, like, be careful what you wish for because it could start arriving, usually when you aren’t looking, and knock the breath right out of you. At least that’s what happened to me…
Here’s why. I’ve been happily and voluntarily unemployed for about 18 months now, focused on writing my first book. It’s a heart-wrenching, exhausting, exhilarating process. I’m so glad I quit my job and am doing it. I’m also grateful and glad that I worked as hard as I did for as long as I did at horrible yet lucrative jobs, so that I’ve had the money saved up on which to live for the past 18 months. Without fear. Did I tell you I’m unemployed? And it’s been 18 months? Oh, okay.
So…I’m writing this book and I’m in a workshop with other writers and we meet weekly to critique each others’ work. Very helpful, crucial actually, to the creative process and learning how to write better.
Then I’m starting a business, to empower teenage girls through creative writing. I need clients so I network, as much as I find tolerable, which could be more because I find marketing myself to be the worst kind of torture. But I have people on my side, helping me, guiding me through the process. It’s awesome.
In fact, all of the above is awesome. It is also slow and hard and terrifying for me to digest because I’ve spent my life doing jobs that paid a lot but didn’t require any risk or vulnerability or heart. I went to work, did the work, left work and went home without thinking about work again until the next morning when I did it all over again. On auto-pilot. Because none of it mattered all that much. The work wasn’t a part of me, it did not represent who I was or what I believed.
But now…be careful what you wish for. It’s coming. The work, my work, requires heart and risk and all of me. It IS me. Finally.
image via Zitona