Be Careful What You Wish For... aloneness part 3

Thinking about anchors and ways to improve upon my aloneness has honestly occupied much more thought time and space than the aloneness itself. You see, I don't mind the aloneness. I'm hoping that this is evident: I don't wallow in the misery of it, because I don't find it miserable. To a certain extent I enjoy it. More importantly I'm used to it, and one might even say content with it. It has become what I know. In a very short time it has become a part of my life that doesn't feel so unusual at all. It's even easier. I don't have to accommodate others or stretch myself to be part of interactions with others. (That's lazy, I know.) But I know it's not the healthiest thing for my little duo and sometimes trio of a family.

I miss the few (but very great) friends I had made in the last place. It took a long time to find them, and then we had only a short time together. It feels unfortunate at times thinking about it, sometimes even unfair. I was lonely there. But the funny thing is, I was less alone. As I felt less positive connection to both the place and the majority of the community, I felt more alone. Life is strange sometimes. And so those friends who filled in the gaps and supported me and helped ease the loneliness are now so far away. The funny thing is, I'm not so eager to replace them. It's not possible -- those unique and individual personalities that meshed so well with mine just cannot be replaced. I'm becoming okay with that too. The thing now is to find my place here within the community I'm currently living in. Preferably sooner than later so that I'll have more time with them. If anything, I do actually learn from my mistakes.

Forcing me to find friends and my niche is a completely different thing. I can sit here and talk about it and think about it... and I'm okay with that. It's the getting my shy timid self out there to create that reality that terrifies and stupifies me. So then the only way left is to have my hand forced.

And that has come to pass.

I had no idea when I started to write about the aloneness that permeated my life a couple of weeks ago that I would now be, well... here. Because not only has this to do with the circumstance of aloneness, but also with my purpose in life. For as long as I have been back in Canada I haven't been able to find work in my field. Equivalencies that exist in the States don't exist in Canada; there are different rules and regulations for my field, which pertains particularly to me when I have a couple of university degrees that don't exist in Canada. It's my own fault for getting my education in the States and then moving to another country (even back to my own country). It didn't feel like a fair shake, truthfully. I wasn't farsighted enough in my earlier life to foresee this kind of outcome. Actually, even if I had foreseen it, I wouldn't have believed it -- it wasn't in my plans. So, the years pass and there I was: in an isolated region of a country that didn't acknowledge one of the most profound parts of me. I lost my career; I lost my purpose. More importantly, I lost my anchor. I became a mom and struggled to find a new anchor. And then I tried to find a new purpose in my life.

A couple of weeks ago I acted on a hunch -- an impulse -- and contacted a former instructor who lives near this area that I now live in. I wanted to see what I would need to do to meet the local equivalencies and perhaps become a candidate for a residency... a shortcut to "starting over". Even as I embarked upon a new purpose as a photographer, I was still pursuing the old purpose -- that undefinably significant part of myself that I had invested so much time and energy and money in creating and that had reached deep into the core of my being and just would not let go. I could not let go. The grieving I've been doing over the past 5 years realizing the end of my dream... well, it didn't move me forward. I was stuck in it. I couldn't let go. And so it had become a part of me to just keep trying. It wasn't about not giving up; it was more about not knowing what else to do.

Back to a short end to this long story: this person I contacted offered me a chance to fill a position that she no longer needed. I inquired as to a lead for a residency... and landed a job. (This position is unique in my field in that because of the nature of this position, the only certification requirement is the most basic one, one that I already possess, and I imagine had this position become publicly known there would have been the most fierce competition for it. It is also unique due to it's part-time nature: one day a week... just enough to get me back.) She calls me a life-saver, a dream come true, in taking over for her. I could say the same....

The shock has about worn off, particularly since my first day was yesterday, and the fit was like putting on an old broken-in comfortably ratty pair of tennies. You know what I'm talking about.

This isn't just about re-finding my niche, re-finding my anchor -- this is about the first big step in challenging the dark.

Stay tuned. There's more to come.