I understand that I must turn my back on perfection to embrace excellence and my sanity. This shift is mine to make. Despite the sense of loss that I feel in ending my search for something that cannot be found, I feel even more loss and frustration in embracing excellence.
My response to Rev. Rick telling me that he would not hire me for the Membership Coordinator position is human. I’m a troublesome mix of salty, numb, and petty. Rica’s suggestion that I resign all of my volunteer activities if I did not get the job is under contemplation. Taking this step strikes me as vengeful and petty. While church does not feel like it once did, I’m trying to stay the course and work through the range of emotions and discomforts I feel. As we approach the summer, I don’t perceive much to inspire me to enter Wylder Hall. This is not all that different from other summers, but this is the first summer that I feel this detached in spirit. Duty binds me to church, but I rarely wake up on Sunday morning with a zeal to attend service for the joy of attending.
Is my spirit being filled? Not really. However, I don’t believe that it is open to receive the spiritual food being offered.
My passion is waning. Not just for church, but in general. I’m not excited about anything concrete. Attending General Assembly is a source of excitement; but I try to keep my emotions in check so the reality of being there does not pale in comparison to my expectations of being there. I continue to search for passion in my work, yet it is lacking. My libido is still shot to hell as I spar each day with depression, anxiety, and crushing self-doubt.
Being told that I great, but unwanted is a psychic kick in the teeth. After applying for countless jobs that I believed I could excel, I’ve received two emails informing me that I’m “no longer being considered.” Searching for a job is never easy. It seems especially tough in a shitty economy that covets my skills, but is unwilling to pay for access. It’s particularly vexing to have to work with folks who were hired for jobs that I applied for and was passed over. They were hired, so I’ll assume that they were qualified; but were they more qualified than me? I’m dubious.
Are all of these closed and slamming doors part of a larger message? Are these missed opportunities protecting me from pitfalls that I don’t see coming? Are they reminders to stay the course and keep pushing toward my entrepreneurial endeavors? I admit to engaging in a bit of escapism when I invest myself in these emerging pursuits (e.g., membership professional, multilevel marketing, traffic school facilitator, etc.). In hindsight, these were diversions that allowed me some relief the doubts and anxieties I felt about the goals that have always been waiting for me to achieve them.
I am an innovator, a problem solver, an educator, and a storyteller. When doubt is removed from planning my steps, I know what needs to be done. While there are nuances to maximizing the outcomes of my work, the initial process of getting the work done does not change. To truly develop a marketing strategy, you must have a product to market. You cannot get distracted by tweaking the details down the road when the road that awaits your next step is unpaved. In short, I need to trust my objectives, plans, and the array of tools I’ve honed to achieve my objectives.
It all comes back to the primary question: Who taught me doubt? I cannot nail down the precise teacher, but I’ve certainly done the heavy lifting to reinforce this belief over the years. Turning my life around and achieving my wildest dreams should not require an abundance of outside influences. My want to do what is necessary for myself is enough. My need to be a good shepherd of myself is enough. This means that getting enough sleep, exercising, eating whole foods, spiritual practice, feeding my mind, being creative, and tending to my relationships must be a part of my daily experience.
A tragic history is repeating itself. I’m not showing up for myself now that it is not my job to do so. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, and financially. I lament the things that I did not receive from my parents during my formative years. When they could not shoulder the responsibility of raising me, I suffered. Now that i bear that responsibility for myself, I’m not stepping up strongly enough. What does it mean to parent myself? I’m capable because I did it when my parents were not quite up to the job. Sadly, I parented my self when I should not have. Now, when I must parent myself, I feel unwilling and resentful that I have to. The embodiment of my entitlement in the elevator comes to mind.

The goals that I chase now are big and transformational. Doubt can only be an idea that is acknowledged and rejected as not good enough. It cannot be business as usual. I must be willing to step into and through the fire. The burns and scars will heal as I emerge from the smoldering ashes. To be a phoenix means to shed old things and ways of being to become something new, different, and powerful. I’ve avoided the flames and the sacrifice that comes with the pain and loss. I’ve been through fires before. What lies before me is not new. It can be survived.