The Bite of Reality

The Relentless Hand of Reality has chosen to exert itself, this week, and has been grinding my face into the gritty beach of Don't Kid Yourself with no small amount of glee, it would seem. Brother, things're grim. (See what I did, there? This wondrous creativity simply cannot be staunched...)

The position on which I had set my sights has been withdrawn; I'm over-qualified. My disappointment is deep, as I sensed it was a perfect combination of challenge, requirement and opportunity. Though, that impression is gleaned only from having read the scope of work and knowing the organization. One doesn't know what is truly in mind without direct contact with the person who conceived the position.

Survival is becoming an issue. Resources are very nearly depleted and the world keeps turning on its axis, inexorably spinning one day into the next with no regard to the insurmountable deadlines this brings rocketing my way.

Days are long and rootless. Arising early from whatever sofa was my solace for the night, packing my stuff so as to leave no presence and departing in the dark for the gym, I stop at the nearest Starbuck's to power-up (a dear friend sent me a loaded coffee-card; she knew what I needed!) and board the subway for the trip. Carrying my clothes from the day before and wearing my gym stuff, I arrive at the gym just as the sky is beginning to lighten.

Cardio, then to a diner for oatmeal. I'm beginning to need more protein if I'm going to be in competition shape for next summer; but that will have to wait until there is income. One good thing about Manhattan (among so many Good Things) is the availability of simple, clean chicken breast meat at most any deli...so small amounts of protein are available as needed, for the most part. I sure miss having my own place to cook/prepare a week of meals in advance and being prepared for whatever happens in a day.

After the oatmeal, back to the gym for weight training. At least these few hours, each morning, give me energy, get the endorphins flowing and bring up the mood. Glad my iPod is handy to keep the music playing and elevate me. I leave the gym in a good frame of mind. The remainder of the day is the struggle to maintain that state. Of course; once it becomes a struggle, maintenance is moot.

My suitcases and clothes are stored, centrally, and I have a place where I can go that is private, has internet access and I can work, answer email and pore through the web, seeking opportunities without having to speak with or be nice to anyone. That relieves no small amount of pressure; important when emotional reserves mirror the scarcity of the practical ones.

It takes a great deal out of one to have no place to Be. Rootless, homeless, workless; huge amounts of strength and commitment are needed to simply remain positive. Self-esteem evaporates in no time; the successes of last week's presentations seem already in the distant past. And, this is going to last for awhile...

Nothing's going to materialize tomorrow, or next week, or probably next month; I'm going to have to get used to this rootlessness and doubt. Busily, relentlessly keeping the networks activated and alive, sharing my self and my talents with potential prospectives, not "living" in the anxiety is what's called-for and that is my focus. Seeds are planted and it is a virtually organic process for germination and possible bloom. Bugger!

I am profoundly fortunate to have someone who loves me...whom I love. When we are together, no kidding, the clouds lift and I can hardly remember the darkness in which I've been abiding. My laughs come easily, my mind clears and my sense of humor returns. I once again feel my confidence build, my self-esteem strengthen, my spirit revivify. I become the Me I like...the Me he loves. Good thing...

Though I resist it, the curtain seems to fall for me sooner and sooner upon separation. In a matter of days...sometimes hours...I am again defending the castle against despondency and depression, feeling bereft and hopeless and fearing the loss of it all. I work to maintain enough objectivity to know that this is a function of the situation; yet I worry at the pressure this puts on me and on him and on us. This is an unfair pressure that can undermine the precious, precious thing we have and are exploring.

Ack: what to do...

Trust, trust, trust, trust, trust.

A quality, a virtue, a value which I hold in such esteem and for which I strive so strongly in myself is, yet, a quality that has so often failed me in professional and personal relationships. Professionally, I "believe" that something perfect is going to materialize; I don't really trust that. I have to make myself good with the fact that I may well be flipping burgers in another week...in Davenport, Iowa or some truckstop in Barstow (not that there is anything WRONG with Davenport or Barstow). My future may well not contain any more of the work at which I am so good...for no reasons I can ascertain, but I sense this.

Personally, I fear that my current neediness and self-doubt will undermine this thing that is so deeply important to me. My need for confidence, comfort and encouragement ... for reassurance ... is real, but it might simply become too much; there is so much going on, so many things pulling downward on me that all the lines become blurred between what pressures are professional, what is personal and what is intimately integral.

I have no answers, today.

There have been better times...