There are times, there will be times, or maybe there have been times already…when you lose your way.
You may stumble and fall. Briefly. And be able to pick yourself right back up again.
There may be other times, when, seemingly out of the blue. You crack. The veneer you hold in place opens and you, raw sewage comes spewing out.
Today. I lost my way. I fell down and was not able to pick myself up.
I have been struggling with the transition to my new job. Trying to immerse myself with wholehearted commitment and unbridled abandon. I have been trying to find a pace to fall into. And to a certain extent this has worked.
I am having a hard letting go. Letting go and walking away. I know it is all very tangled up; the most tangled and entangled balls of wool, you probably would throw them away and start fresh. It would be easier. What is of my own making? What is simply my ego in need of validation? What is fear of not being needed? What is just normal transitional angst? What is self perpetuated? I don’t know and I can’t really tell anymore. I just know today it all came pouring out, a deluge of grief for what I have left.
Luckily. I work with good people. Really, really good people, who you can crack in front off and they open up their arms.
When you lose your way, there is only one way to get found again.
And this is the hardest step.
You have to admit your lost.