Friday, May 16, 2014

When You've Failed: Dear You

Congratulations: You!
12:00-1:00 p.m.
Biggest Conference Room in the Office

The meeting invite stares at me from the corner of my desktop. I scowl at it. My lips twist and eyes narrow. I have thoroughly failed in my planning for this meeting, and I’ve known of my failure for months. I’ve pondered this meeting in my head, rolled my choices along the roof of my mouth, worried the cracks with my tongue.

My company has a wonderful women in business group that my mentor hosts, and one of my dearest work friends is the Treasurer of Dreams. Many moons ago we had a meeting where we wrote our future selves congratulatory notes for the spring about our achieved goals and stored them in a box on her desk. I had two: moving to Seattle, and getting engaged to Lennon.

Lennon and I broke up in November. I suffered a psychotic break after I didn’t get my “perfect fit” job late this winter.

The past year has been hard on me. I have the gray hairs to prove it. But I started seeing a therapist, dyed my hair pink, and focused on my present self instead of what I thought my future should be. The box I thought I could cram myself into was not a viable future. The one I’m looking at now might not be either, I won’t know until I’m there. I have to remember this for my meeting in 70 minutes.

My friends Allen and Charli have a quote on their wall by their workstations (he's a programmer, they're a poet): Fail faster. Make better mistakes.

It's a quote about working tech; we create innovation by failing. It applies to our creative and "normal" lives too. If you're never failing, you're not pushing.

This is my new letter from present me to present me. I hope you, dear reader, get something out of it too.

Dear You,

Embrace the failure. These failures mark your survival, another groove worn into your hull of mistaken navigation and unclear signs. You are still here, and you are still fighting. Your eyes are open now, and you’re starting to understand that what you don’t agree with, you don’t have to do forever. You get an exit plan.

Now you’ve made an exit plan, and taken the very first steps towards getting there. The difference between this one and the other ones? The new plan is organically achievable; it runs into your blood like spring breezes. It grows flowers from your fingertips.

I am proud of you, even on the days when we mark high distress and shame on our Moodscope cards. Our plan may fail, more dreams may be broken, the plate might yet fall from your hands and shatter on the kitchen floor. Remember that plates and cakes are replaceable, but you are not.

You always say you never need anyone to save you - now, you’re living it.

Congratulations on avoiding trains for another year.

Congratulations on finally understanding the love song of your city, and writing yourself into it. Of wearing into your life with patience instead of hammering it like that’s going to do something besides make it weaker.

You lived. You win.

Love,
You

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

All's Well That Ends Well...I Think?

             I'm pretty sure I've typed up at least half a dozen of these to throw up here when I actually got the chance to type it all out again...and then just never did.

             Figured tonight would be a better night than any...

             In less than 24 hours, I take a test that will determine my future. Now, let me just give you a rather quick rundown of my relationship with tests go...

              It's a hate/hate relationship. Okay...it's a I'm-gonna-fuck-you-over/I'm-gonna-wish-I-could-rip-your-stupid-scantron-face-into-a-million-tiny-confetti-pieces-and-then-burn-you-to-the-fucking-ground-you-stupid-green-boxed-life-ruiner.

               Okay, now that that has been cleared up, I have this test tomorrow. My nursing final. It all comes down to this. The last test, of the last semester, of the last chance I'm giving nursing school. Ahh, yes...I failed it once already. Blame it on a boy, blame it on being too young, blame it on whatever you want...it all comes down to the fact that I messed up and I had to figure out what the hell to do afterwards ((and after breaking part of my hand for punching a wall and buying two bottles of whiskey)). I failed. Not sure there's a whole lot of things I've failed at...and this wasn't something I was too proud of. So, I did what any rational person would do.

                        I fought my way back in, and gave it everything I had.

                 So, here I am...6 years later...from start to almost finish...it all comes down to whether or not I can pass this test. ((Aside from that OTHER big test I have to take in order to actually BE a nurse...)). I'm not entirely certain how I'm supposed to feel about finally finishing this very long, very difficult, very frustrating, very EVERYTHING journey I've gone on...with everyone else that has stuck with me along the way...

              Or, maybe it's the fact that, in the near distant future, somebody out there is going to hand me a certificate to actually save people's lives...