Near vs. Far
There's nothing like time away to make you realize that you enjoy the 'away' more than the 'here'. When I'm not 'here', I'm able to think more freely, outside of the constraints of my day-to-day world. I think with hope. I see possibilities. I see new things.

It was really hard to come back to work today, more so than just the disappointment of the ending of vacation fun. I don't like being 'here'. And while 'away', it was about as far away as one could get in a week of vacation. It was nice.

It reminds me of the Sesame Street episode when Grover explains the difference between near and far. He stands really close to the screen and says 'near!' Then he runs away from the screen and says, 'far!' When he's up close, it's uncomfortable, his blue scraggly face right up in your face. When he's far, it seems better. He's cute and blue and silly and likeable. I'm sure the deeper meaning behind 'near vs. far' is slim to none on an episode of Sesame Street, but now being older and many years removed from Grover, I find near vs. far an applicable analogy to my life. In a weird way, of course. Now that I've typed it out, it seems to make less sense . . . but Grover is cool.

Anyway, I don't mean that I hate where I am physically, or even in many areas of my life. I love my house, my friends, my family. I have it pretty good in many ways. Better now than in years past. But I'm not happy in what I do. And that's a big thing.

Among my friends is one friend in particular who is good for me (most of the time) because she's honest with me about me. It frustrates me sometimes because she's right, and yet I'm slow to act on things I need to do. Eventually she will give up on me because I react as though I don't listen, meaning I often don't do anything. She'll grow weary of offering suggestions that I appear to not take, resulting in never moving from 'here' to get to 'there'. And then I'll be mad that I haven't done what I need to do, and that I've worn out another friend. But hopefully she knows I do listen, and I'm appreciative. But I'm just slow to take action.

She kicks me in the rear quite often about getting myself in gear to get something published, intending that starting the process of being published will likely lead to a way out of 'here'. She's my 'editor'. Although she has yet to actually edit anything. But that's likely because I have yet to actually write much of anything for her to edit.

Our conversations go something like this:
"I hate my job."
"Get a new one."

"I want to be a writer."
"Write something and submit it somewhere."

"I wish I traveled more."
"Get on a plane and go somewhere."

"I'm too poor to do all the stuff I want to do."
"Sell a kidney and quit complaining so much."

Ok, that last one hasn't actually happened. . . yet. But the others, well, they happen more than they should. I'm a slow-mover, meaning it takes me a long time to work up the motivation to do things, even when it's the best thing for me, and even when I am (in theory) already motivated by hating where I am. Change is hard for me, even if it's change for the better.

But what I've thought about lately is why I'm not motivated. And I don't think it's a lack of motivation. It's more a fear that a reality for me could possibly include something I really love to do.

I could be a writer. I could like it. And that is scary.

I could have a job I don't hate. I could spend my days writing and reading and being creative, and that could be my job. I can't grasp that. It doesn't seem like that is something that could happen for me.

I don't have any basis for being a writer, except that I do it often and I like it. Maybe I have some talent, or maybe I can take what I do and make it into something marketable. I could make it work. I don't know how or where to start, except to keep writing and looking and following the leads wherever they go. But it's an actual possibility of a reality.

Writing. For a living.

And that's what I can't understand. It doesn't make sense that it could happen, because it's not where I started, or where I thought I'd go. But it would be something I enjoy, and I haven't ever really experienced that in a job before. I've had jobs I like well enough, but nothing that is what I feel like I 'do' and enjoy. I feel like I'm on the verge of something, but stuck there.

Jobs are always jobs in my world. A place where I go and do stuff, and at the end of the day I hope I can pay my bills. The idea that a job can also be something I love, well, that's still 'far.'

I want to figure out how to make it 'near'.

Soon.

C.T.