Searching for Sea Glass

Last year on this date, my husband Shea and I were a week away from setting off on our big adventure-- moving to the San Francisco Bay Area. I wrote about all the hope and possibility that lay ahead of us, and how excited we both were about the future. We were both nervous—Shea even more than I—as he had never been where we were going. I had lived here before, in the very town we were moving to. Our townhouse actually sits less than a mile from my former apartment, the little one bedroom I lived in –fifteen years ago- which seems unbelievably long ago now. Time has flown. This past year has flown. 

What we didn’t know was that once we left South Carolina, once we headed out for our adventure, everything would go wrong. I can’t even begin to explain or remember all of the little things that went awry, but the big things are burned into my memory: our corrupt moving company holding our belongings for ransom, finally giving them up only after an emotional battle and thousands more dollars of money that we had to borrow, finding out that the same moving company had kept many of our belongings including our mattresses, which left us struggling in our first weeks here on an air mattress until my first paycheck.

Then, while I was gone on my first business trip, Bear encountered a foxtail – something we knew nothing about- but once he inhaled it- cost us almost $1000 in an emergency veterinarian bill. (goodbye to the rest of the first paycheck!) Those first few weeks were horrendous, and Shea had to deal with a great deal of it alone, in a new city where he knew no one, while I was a few states away, working. Then, to top it all off, while I was on that trip, I took a tumble down a small flight of stairs, luckily breaking nothing, but the fall left me in such pain for the rest of my business trip, that I spent part of every day in the restroom in tears, and cried myself to sleep every night. This was contract work, and I refused to go to the ER because I knew no doctor would let me continue to work, and our financial situation was so perilous at that moment that I couldn’t risk being sent home. I waited to visit the ER after my trip once I got home, and came out hobbling on crutches, but relieved I had made it through and gotten paid. 

I kept waiting for the moment when we would turn the curve and our fortunes would change. I kept waiting to see the light in Shea’s eyes and know that he loved it out here as much as I always have. I kept waiting for him to find his next career direction and see the light at the end of the tunnel he has been waiting for. I kept waiting for my job situation to settle down and for me to feel I was really where I was supposed to be. The contract work dried up, and I finally found a full time position. But for the most part, for most of these things, I am still waiting. 

I have had more than a few challenging times in my life, so I know this is not the lowest point. There have been days in this last year, though, when things have felt bigger than me, bigger than us, and I have lost faith in myself. I have doubted the decision to bring us out here. Even though it was both of us deciding, it was me who started this chain of events, it was me who suggested bringing us here—all the way to the other side of the country. We both loved living in Myrtle Beach, SC, a place that held a lot of childhood nostalgia for us, and where the people that are truly family to us live. I cannot express how much we miss Aunt Marlene. We would be in her kitchen celebrating Easter with her and other family members tomorrow, and not doing that will be a hole in our hearts. I had assumed that by this time, we would be able to afford to fly back for holidays, and we are just not at that point yet. 

The truth is, we were struggling back in SC, and we are better off financially here, even if we are still struggling. It’s hard to face that, especially for Shea, who doesn’t know anyone else here, and I know he feels so disconnected from the world at times. Changing careers is so hard, and navigating through that has been more challenging than he or I could have ever imagined. 

I have wanted to write for months, to spill my soul out and share what has been going on in my mind and heart, but I haven’t been able to find the words. Working has left me drained and while I am so thankful for my job, especially now, I come home exhausted and unable to summon the creative energy to do the thing I love and honestly need to do most when I am trying to work through a hard time. I know creative people all struggle with this. We have to pay the bills, so your art-- whether it’s writing, painting, music—it becomes the thing you do on the side unless you have been lucky enough to find away to make it your livelihood. 

On the train ride home, standing in the middle of dozens of people every day, I find myself getting emotional thinking of all the time ticking away. I am not writing my novel, I haven’t even written a blog post in months. It has been overwhelming lately. I tell myself I will make the time, I will stay up late, I will carve out time on the weekends. But I can’t summon the words at exact moments. They come to me or they don’t. Lately, they haven’t. 

I wish I could say I see all these hopeful changes just around the corner for us, and that within a few weeks, we will be out of this rut, full of purpose, and without any doubts of our choices and our place in the scheme of things. I know that won’t be true- unless a winning lottery ticket finds its way to us. 

I have to keep myself focused on what we do have. I tell myself all the time that it’s like being at the beach, looking for sea glass among the broken shells. You have to look really hard to find these beautiful, cloudy blue-green pieces of glass, little gems among the wreckage of the ocean, but they are there. Right now, my pieces of sea glass are that we both have health insurance, we are both ok health-wise, Bear is healthy and happy and loves it here- as do all of the animals, we live in a great place near beautiful walking trails, I am working full time, and we can pay the bills- barely- but we can. Tomorrow and the next day and the next, we will have plenty to eat, and we have a roof over our heads. We have each other. And although things have been rough and we have struggled at times, we know and love each other more every day. Some days are harder than others. Some days are good. We laugh, a lot. 

It has become this weird little mantra for me when I am having a bad day…look for the sea glass…a way to remind myself to look for the positive things. I don’t even know if the analogy makes sense to anyone but me. 

Sometimes the pieces of sea glass are really hard to see. Tomorrow, I am promising myself I will take a few extra moments to look harder to see them, to wait for the sun to catch the colors and show them to me. I know they are there, hidden among the broken shells of my life right now. 

Here's hoping in a few months, it's not as much of a struggle to find them. 

Read more...

Adrift

This morning, after a night of restless sleep, I woke early and just lay in bed thinking. The rest of the house was quiet—it was hours before Bear woke up and filled the house with his impatience to be taken out and begin the day.

I think too much. I know it. It gets in the way sometimes of the things I want to do- and I am left only with regret and my thoughts. But, this constant analyzing and turning things over and over is part of who I am—at the core of it—so I can only fight it so much.

What had my wheels turning this morning is just the fragility of everything. One decision made, one wrong turn, and your life is collapsible, suddenly different. Or the worst, you do nothing wrong—no bad decision, no mistake—but just wake up one morning to the phone ringing- a doctor on the other end delivering news that could mean the beginning of misery, or very much the end of your life. It’s not fair. Any of it.

In the last few months, I have personally been on a rollercoaster of my own. A mix of realizing yet another wish becoming a reality—moving back to the city I love with the man I love—but also twists and turns of bad luck, misfortune, and lots of doubt. We are struggling and joyous at the same time. It is a rickety foundation to stand on, but we are balancing somehow.

This morning I thought of all the unknowns we are living. We are both in a questionable career place right now, with lots of expectations, but little certainty. I LOVE that we took this risk and are riding the chances together. I try and will things to happen as fast as I want them to, but I know I can only control so much. In my heart, in my gut, I know we are in the right place. I led us here, even though we both wanted it, I truly steered the course, so I feel responsible.

Two years ago, I had really set my sights on turning my lagging career into an excuse to make my real dream come true- to put writing first and to finish my novel. I would make progress, lose my way for a month or two, then come back renewed and write in extremely productive spurts. Even though it wasn’t consistent, I felt like my goal was still at the forefront.

This morning, an image kept coming to mind. I saw myself in a little boat in a big sea…and ocean around me…and getting farther and farther away from the shore, from land. That shoreline was my dream of writing, and it seemed to be getting smaller and smaller as I floated away. Then, nothing around me but all this uncertainty… calm, but uncertain.

Here I am, with so much to be thankful for, so much accomplished, and I feel lost.

I love reading quotes about “doing what you love”… if only it were that easy. I think it was Steven Spielberg that said “Dream for a Living”. Nice thought. I know he didn’t start out wealthy, I know that he worked hard and sacrificed to get where he is…but when I read words like that, I think- THAT would be nice, if only we didn’t have bills to pay. I would write all the time, I would live my dream for a living.

On the flip side, life is so short and fragile. It’s ridiculous to NOT do what you want, to be what you want. In the scheme of things it is all over in a flash. I can get myself near panic lying awake at night thinking of all the things that could happen, that ARE happening to people I know and care about.

I have watched friends get diagnosed with terrible illnesses and greet the news and the struggle with such strength that I feel ashamed worrying about all the little things I fret about. I know that right now, any one of those friends would trade my problems for theirs—in a blink—in an instance. I can’t make things make sense. Why do these really amazing, GOOD people have to suffer through things like this when others who CAUSE pain and suffering go unscathed? It can’t be explained away by fate or God or reading “When Bad Things Happen to Good People”. No one can make this make sense to me. It is wrong and unfair.

I can remember so vividly when I was in grade school how much I worried about doing the right thing. Part of that was my conscience, part of that was who I am, and part of it was that I truly believed that if I was careful and did good things, nothing truly bad would happen to me. I am shocked to think back on how long I held that belief—it was well beyond grade school. Then, the years add wisdom and the shock of reality. You watch as good people fall victim to the horrible things in life- getting robbed of years and happiness. You stand mystified as the bad guys win—watching the corrupt conquer and their lies somehow go unpunished—and shockingly even sometimes rewarded.

I don’t have answers for any of it. I find a way to keep going and planning the next week without worrying myself insane about all the things that could happen, that might happen. I allow myself windows into these moments, but I can’t stay looking too long. I just wish for things to be different. I wish for certainty in a world that offers no guarantees. I know I am not alone, I know we all do.

So many people have commented on how much turmoil my husband and I took on at once. We moved across the country, I started a new job, and Shea is changing careers, all in a span of weeks. It is daunting, and perhaps part of the reason my head is so cloudy right now. It’s a lot to take in.

Maybe a week from today, my words will have a completely different tone, maybe this week will be the week when I feel more certain about everything. It could be tomorrow, it could be next month.

The ONLY thing I know for certain is that in one moment everything can change—for good or for bad. One moment. And there’s nothing I can do… but make the choices I think are right, and do my best.

That, and wait and hope.

Read more...