This is exactly how I feel some days.
The new year has started; but my “next chapter,” at certain minutes, can feel like it hasn’t. That’s what the gap time between grad school and that first job offer can feel like. If you let it–that is.
My last chapter, the Boston without Andy, the finishing touches of grad school, the readiness to move from security to new challenges––that chapter could have been called “The Push.” It resulted in me producing some incredible work in Boston. (If I do say so myself. Apologies for not being more humble, but I can’t even begin to count the hours that I put into this. And if I had it to do over again then I would be an even more educated perfectionist and fix so much….But I digress…)
Have I shown you the quick highlights? If not, take a peek:
In the month that I tied up loose ends and trekked back to North Carolina, I’ve been working on freelance video work and applying to jobs––but that chapter . . . “The Push.” It ended as we exited I-90 out of Boston.
I had it in my mind that 2015 would be a new chapter in and of itself.
The first job. That would be the new chapter.
As I look at this time in between though, and I feel the temptation to feel like that GIF. . . a blinking type prompt. A story in waiting.
I simultaneously realize and recognize that “The Push” has ended and “The Search” has started. This in-between is definitely the next chapter. Sure, maybe the job starts another new chapter––but this time is just as important.
If my life were a night at the symphony the conductor would have played a vibrant, fast, intense composition and now we’re in the fluid, softer staccato, weaving different instruments and making you listen to the pauses that fill the song. This chapter, “The Search,” is like a palette cleanser in a seven course meal, where the next piece is going to be extremely flavorful.
But you have to be ready.
One of my favorite things about “The Search” is that I’ve been able to reconstruct my diet and health. I’ve been running again. And after suffering a stress fracture over a year ago, I’m still having to be delicate about the structure of my new half-marathon training.
You can’t run your longest run on a Tuesday and then start your next longest run on Wednesday.
You have to have a cross training day in the middle.
And that day doesn’t “not matter.”
It’s not a “non-day.”
It’s essential.
Each chapter with a purpose. Each phase building on the next.
My 2015 isn’t a blinking type prompt. In fact it’s already well started: With cooking dinners for my family. With savoring the time I have with those I haven’t been able to see as much. With a running calendar. With some freelance videography work. With research of jobs and locations. With constant news watching and the daily allowed FRIENDS binge (I won’t try to hide it….Netflix is definitely on with FRIENDS in the background right this minute).
This time is a huge gift and, while granted it’s not easy every day to sit down and write a blog post about soaking in the quiet times when you’re someone who draws on energy, I understand that this chapter is in perfect timing.
So, if you’re like me and in between the major action––don’t feel like your next chapter is waiting to begin. Embrace the one you’re writing now.
actually on the line 