Saturday, 29 November 2014

The Seven Year Itch

I'm stuck in bed with a dislocated knee cap and my work laptop at the office.  After silly time-wasting moments on Facebook, Instagram and YouTube, I can't avoid them anymore.

My thoughts.

For the past few weeks I had been facing things I didn't want to face.  To my very great embarrassment, I've become a cliché.  

I'm seven years in my marketing company and probably the last corporate citizen not on LinkedIn.  I hear people murmuring into their office phones "how did you get my number?" and I know that's not a booty call conversation.  I had stopped exploring almost entirely, and now have career-fomo.

I've been married seven years and facing the truth that love becomes a decision.  I was in denial that it would ever happen to me.  But by seven years you face challenges to change some rather bad marriage habits you've picked up along the way. 
And just when I've gotten into a balanced-groove with my daughter, she turns six and starts to change.  She is different as a six year old: she doesn't look for the play we used to do and she is less attached to me.   It's like she crossed a threshold and I miss her.
Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson
My smart head knows the right answers and the right changes to make.  My stubborn body, however, has to break inertia.  

Finding a balance is always a struggle with things shifting all the time.  I figure out how to be good at one thing, and another thing changes.  I've been living with my head down,  so focused on being good at my responsibilities that I haven't been aware of change happening around me.  

Suddenly I look up and my daughter is six, I'm the same pregnant weight, an old-timer at work, and my marriage has tipped the balance from loving effort to mutual toleration.  How in the world did that happen so fast?

At the ER yesterday, I just lost it.  The nurse had trouble with inserting my IV and I just let the pain overwhelm me and cried and cried.  It must've been an ugly cry -- the poor doctor on-duty gave me a Valium shot.  
Pain is God's way of moving us into the right path.  Things won't ever stay the same, no matter how much I try to cling to the way I figured things out before.   I've become so focused on where I am that I haven't looked at where I was going.   

So the formula keeps changing, after all.  And if you stop changing, it means you're dead.  
That's the cure to the cliché.


That's pretty wonderful, I think.  

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