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Moment of impact.
On the many ways life be lifeing and an improv update!
Last week, after dropping Ava off at daycare, I was rear-ended at the intersection right before turning into my apartment. Hard. So hard that it’ll take about $5,000 to repair. What’s the statistic about most accidents happening within minutes of your home?
At the moment of impact, all I could do was laugh. Maniacally. Then, as the reality of the situation sat in, I repeated “no, no, no, NO..,” similarly to the housekeeper in Get Out. The force of the impact matched the intensity of my exhaustion level due to all of the ways life has made me feel suddenly rear-ended. Thinking I’m home free because I can see the familiar roads and landmarks and then BAM, my entire world is rocked by something I didn’t see coming (or in some cases I did, and convinced myself not to believe my compromised brain.)
This accident, my second of the year, came after a weekend of sulking because I didn’t get the position I was REALLY excited about. In a new industry, I would have led mission-driven work with a diverse leadership staff and an even more diverse population serviced, and it was a level of leadership I hadn’t yet taken on. In the latter half of my search, I’ve become focused on finding mission-driven companies whose core values and missions closely match my own, hopefully outside of the corporate realm. I can no longer fool myself into believing I can make change at the corporate level in the way that I feel led to and a nice paycheck won’t be useful if I’m not alive to spend it.
In a conversation with a friend recently, I told them that life has been lifeing for what feels like forever now. I shared that it has gotten to the point where I am unable to fully enjoy my “good days” because I know the “bad” ones have been my norm. Each time that I have a good day or two and I feel like I’m closer to the light at the end of the tunnel, it abruptly shuts off and I find myself still stuck in the dark tunnel.
I’ve found myself trying to avoid the “how are you” question because each time that I am asked I want to unleash an encyclopedia-length list of complaints but instead I say some semblance of “not great right now, but I’m here.”
This past weekend I performed in my first-ever improv showcase. *insert applause here* I enrolled in an eight-week introductory improv course this summer and loved it. Because I overly share just about every aspect of my life whether publicly or with my tribe, I wanted to purposely keep something for myself. A private hobby I guess. I invited no one to the showcase and I have no regrets about that. My team performed well and I need to give a special shoutout to the woman in the front row whose infectious laughter made everyone else laugh.
I’m proud of myself for starting, sticking it out even when class and life were both tough, and hopefully continuing on to the next level soon. Creatively expressing myself has been pivotal in keeping me here and I’ve given myself permission to try any and all forms of doing so.
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