the space between
Since my last entry nearly SIX months ago, I have been increasingly plagued by the feeling that the space between who I truly am and who I have given myself time to be is growing wider. I make it from day to day giving myself the bare minimum of personal time, opting instead to love on my new puppy, or my husband, or trying to wrap my ever-protesting brain around the CPA exam review material sitting on the corner of my desk.
But last night, at the urging of both Desiree and my husband, I spent nearly an hour curled up in my new papasan chair in the corner of my office, alone in the silence, reading a book which I hadn't finished when I originally picked it up last year.
And something came to me.
There are days where I feel completely stuck in this practical choice of a career which I want desperately to know I will someday leave. I feel mired in the world of audit adjustments and business politics and I want nothing more than to wake up and find myself day dreaming as I wait for Bible as Lit to begin on a fall afternoon in Norman. There are days when I'm not sure that I will ever find a way out of the mold that I have unwittingly poured myself into.
But then I realized - I do have a way out. I have a very specific, very personal way out. I can write myself out.
The book I was reading last night is a compilation of writings by a female author who died a few years ago of cancer at the age of 47. One of the profiles included in the book is of a former Director of Protocol who started out as a journalist and for some reason, as I read her story, I thought to myself...
I can write myself out.
That particular woman had written herself INTO her new career but why can't I just reverse that cycle? Why can't I write myself OUT of this one?
The hard part is finding the time and the inspiration among the stacks of audit files and financial statements. Or is it?
Perhaps really the hard part is overcoming my reservations... my personal fears and phobias about failing at that which I love to imagine I could do best. But perhaps that is the only thing holding me back - and I'll never know if I don't try. And until I attempt it, I'll never know if it might have worked.
Here goes, well, pretty much everything....
But last night, at the urging of both Desiree and my husband, I spent nearly an hour curled up in my new papasan chair in the corner of my office, alone in the silence, reading a book which I hadn't finished when I originally picked it up last year.
And something came to me.
There are days where I feel completely stuck in this practical choice of a career which I want desperately to know I will someday leave. I feel mired in the world of audit adjustments and business politics and I want nothing more than to wake up and find myself day dreaming as I wait for Bible as Lit to begin on a fall afternoon in Norman. There are days when I'm not sure that I will ever find a way out of the mold that I have unwittingly poured myself into.
But then I realized - I do have a way out. I have a very specific, very personal way out. I can write myself out.
The book I was reading last night is a compilation of writings by a female author who died a few years ago of cancer at the age of 47. One of the profiles included in the book is of a former Director of Protocol who started out as a journalist and for some reason, as I read her story, I thought to myself...
I can write myself out.
That particular woman had written herself INTO her new career but why can't I just reverse that cycle? Why can't I write myself OUT of this one?
The hard part is finding the time and the inspiration among the stacks of audit files and financial statements. Or is it?
Perhaps really the hard part is overcoming my reservations... my personal fears and phobias about failing at that which I love to imagine I could do best. But perhaps that is the only thing holding me back - and I'll never know if I don't try. And until I attempt it, I'll never know if it might have worked.
Here goes, well, pretty much everything....