Intersection 19

When anxiety and relief meet...

More than twenty-five years spent in a company, my father is officially retired from the world of work. He now has all the time to do the things he has long planned for, maybe even be involved in activities that will just make him happier. We are all happy for this milestone in our family.

But I feel new waves of anxiety. The anxiety about a life's irony - of dad formally leaving the workplace while I am just to start.

I have already made a decision with regard to my career dilemma. The terms about my second employment will be discussed early next year. And having me finally say it makes it somehow, surreal. The time I have spent to ponder on what I want to do and where I am needed not only has given me answers, but also more indefinitely structured questions. Maybe this is how the world (or even life) works. When you have decided to take a break, you'd sooner or later figure out that you have more things to figure out. Just when you thought you needed space to think, you realize that you needed the same space to act. You cannot just let yourself wonder about what ifs. You cannot just let yourself focus on where you must have went wrong. I realized that you also need to give yourself credit. You need to have assurance that your mistakes do not define you. Instead, these errors will be the primary steps for you to create change.

I also feel anxious about the possibilities that will unfold once I sign a contract. The piece of paper will introduce me to a new side of the world of work, probably pushing me out of my comfort zones or expanding my comfort zones. The piece of paper will be the beginning to a journey, unknown and unfamiliar... but can be very fulfilling.

These lines seem to spill from an overflow of my rambled thoughts. An overflow I cannot judge to be as meaningful as how you may see it or as helpful as how I wanted them to be. These lines seem to make less sense the more I try to pattern them from my ideal self. However chaotic or organized these lines may be, I hope they will have more sense and fit in the bigger puzzle I'll be viewing in the future - the mosaic of how I have lived. And with this thought, I feel relieved to begin.

Until the next anxious moment,

Myra

(Credits to alphaheart.com for the photo)