This week marks a personal worst in my (relatively) brief history. I cannot pretend to have had a difficult life. I haven’t had to overcome childhood trauma (at least that I can recall). I have fairly normal parents and much to their credit, any adversity that I have encountered has been completely self-imposed. I cannot blame them and have long surpassed the age at which blaming one’s parents is hip. Taking responsibility for myself and my choices allows me a tremendous amount of freedom. If I am responsible for my choices I am always free to make a different choice at any time. I have the power to change my life. (This is an exceedingly simplified explanation. It is never this easy in real life. It is easier to believe this way and apply this principle when life is going well, however it is when life is not going well that this stuff matters).
I believe all of the above. Or I thought I did. Then this week happened and all that I know I believed was challenged and no longer applied to me (yet irony of all ironies it still applied to everyone else!).
The week began humorously enough. I fell FOUR times. This is four more times in the last week than in the last four years combined. Three times were on the ice, however once was in doors, on my sister’s newly carpeted stairs. I do take some sort of odd pride in being the first to fall. At least I have earned this distinction.
I was snowed in three times. Really snowed in. Not at my own home. Getting out required a lot of digging and generosity from my Dad, a neighbor, and the final time, my sister. I have been stuck numerous times this week also, mostly in my own driveway. The top of the drive way has become a sort of personal ice-skating rink. This, too, is fun at first, but I cannot seem to come or go without getting stuck and/or spinning around in really cool circles. This gets old and nauseating after awhile. Just this week, my dear friend Isabel (having recently had surgery) and I got stuck on the Ice-Skating Rink. Isabel is not supposed to drive. This did not stop her. I was Isabel who managed to get us out of there after approximately 20 minutes of my bitching and a bit of shoveling. I also attempted to dig us out in my prettiest and newest red heels. The heels were exceedingly dumb (yet oh-so-glamorous) and also oh-so-unnecessary. Especially considering we were at my house, which is where I keep my closet and my winter shoes.
The real kicker -and I am looking for the humor in this and have yet to find it- occurred Wednesday morning as I was driving to work. The back roads from New Plymouth to Ontario were icy and I was already running late due road conditions, dog poop, and other unmentionables. I made the mistake of returning the board chairman’s call from earlier that morning. During this phone call, I was told I no longer had a position at my suddenly-former place of employment. I didn’t even warrant a face-to-face meeting. I was let go without warning, over the telephone, while navigating the icy roads on the way to work. Ouch.
So. Now I begin the struggle to accept responsibility for what is mine, to not accept responsibility for what is not mine, to differentiate between the two, and to pick up the pieces of what has been a huge part of my identity (always a mistake for me, identifying too much with my work). I guess I have plenty of time to think about it.
Namaste,
Erin
Posted by Joshua James on February 13, 2008 at 5:00 am
Very cool, looking forward to your future posts!