Tonight I am feeling the impossible-to-ignore urge to write. Like my life depends on it. Because it kind of does.
Writing comes easy. Words just fall out of me. Insights unfold. There is no forcing. I don’t rock up to the page with a plan. The words appear and the lines take care of themselves.
When I write I reach a flow state that brings me back to myself. It is a form of meditation.
Writing is how I heal. And its pull is becoming stronger.
Writing is however not what I should be doing right now. What I am supposed to be doing is applying for jobs. I need to work again. The ongoing of not working is taking its toll. Days overwhelmed by self-doubt and panic. Looping over. It has become too much.
Despite this I just can’t bring myself to write another soulless application for a job I don’t want to do. And the thing is, the job doesn’t want me either. Even though I am qualified, possibly over-qualified, not a single application has led to an interview.
I am not surprised.
A year ago pretty much to the day I met with an astrologer. 90 minutes of revelations. Realities I had forgotten, truths I intuitively knew and patterns that had previously taken weeks to emerge on a therapist’s couch. How did she know it all? Was my journey on earth mapped out on a galactic notepad the entire time? Spookily it seemed so.
I was in the midst of a transition, she said. Nothing revelatory there – I had just been made redundant for the second time in a row. But then she said something that hit hard. This wasn’t the first time. I was entering the final chapter of a three-part cycle. She knew about the two times before. The time I course-corrected from small town, small job to the big city and corporate life. Then when I jumped ship, leaving my marriage and city job to start over in a new country. They were part of the same story. And it was time for the last installment!
Weren’t chapter one and two enough? Life looked pretty transformed. But it wasn’t really. There was one more part to let go of. And that was my career. That was going to require some serious ego work. Luckily the Universe was on hand to serve up an intervention in the form of a fruitless job hunt.
Someone once told me “When you ask the Universe for something you need to be specific”.
I don’t recall what I was aiming for in Chapter one. I was somewhat unconscious back then. All I know is I thought I should be further on in my life and career, so I made it happen until I no longer recognised myself.
In Chapter two I wanted to feel alive again. A life full of joy. No longer sat on the sidelines with FOMO. It wasn’t that specific though – sure I had this vague vision of frequent travel, a conscious partnership, spiritual alignment and good people. And if you asked anyone how I live now, that wouldn’t be far off. But if I‘m honest I didn’t go far enough. I got stuck again. Moving into Chapter two I also wanted to build something and make a positive impact in this world. I got caught up in a lifestyle and in doing so, I overlooked that feeling alive also comes from living your purpose. 7 years can go by quickly when you are busy having fun, but after a while the highs subside and you crave something deeper.
Perhaps it wasn’t that I hadn’t been specific enough, maybe I just wasn’t ready. Perhaps I needed to reach the point where I was able to commit to the final stage. Maybe chapter three is right on time. Here now, inviting me for one final dance as we close the cycle.
Tonight amongst the spiraling thoughts came a gentle nudge.
“Put some words on a page.“
A loving voice pulled me out of the looping and helped me find some space.
In thinking about chapter three I made peace with chapter two ending. It has taken a year to accept landing ‘here’ again. Yet ‘here’ is actually somewhere new. Only now do I see that chapter two was a bridge. It was only ever about living. Being so in the moment of enjoying life in full colour after leaving the greyscale of chapter one, there could never have been time for any other aspirations. The time for those is now.
So where do I go from here?
What do you do when part of your story is over and you don’t know what to do next?
You do the thing that doesn’t make sense but feels right.
I am doing it. Letting the words flow. Trusting that through them life will take shape.
Chapter three I am writing you.