Red Cedar

Yesterday, I received a rejection letter. That is –  a letter telling me that although I was a stellar candidate, I had not got the job I interviewed for last Friday. (That interview, incidentally, took up so much brain space once it was scheduled that I haven’t been posting here, never mind the fact I have so much to share with you!)

The job was for a large organization whose mission I support wholeheartedly, it paid a 1/3 more than I am currently making, and it drew directly on the skill set that I have spent the last twenty years developing. By all rights I should be crushed right now, for this position would have once represented my “dream” job which is why my friend inside recruited me to apply for it several months ago.

But instead of feeling spurned, or self-hating when the note arrived in my inbox yesterday – I felt incredibly, unmistakably, relieved. As in, happy to see the rejection confirmed!

And why is that? Because during the interview they quite candidly told me that the expected hours of work for the next year or so would be sixty (or more) per week, with some indeterminate amount of travel. SIXTY hours per week! For the record, I currently work thirty hours per week as I reduced my schedule when I started grad school two years ago. I knew that this organization would want me to work a lot more – say, perhaps, fifty hours per week – and that would include weekends/evenings plus travel. But when an interview starts out with sixty hours per week as a minimum, you know it’s going to be that plus more.

Five years ago, those kinds of hours wouldn’t have deterred me – as I spent most of my life on the road for my union, plus worked a full time job. Back when I met Brian, I was frequently occupied for 50 or more hours per week between travel and work, which is just one of the reasons our dating progressed at a leisure pace in the beginning – I was never around! And when I was around, I was pretty exhausted from time changes and nights spent at meetings and in hotel rooms.

But this interview situation caused me to confront the fact that my life has changed since those days, and I no longer possess the drive to work for anyone or anything the way I once did. And it’s mostly not even about the fact that I have a family now (husband and teenager are able to take care of themselves!), but a lot more to do with the fact that my life is rich with activities and possibilities – all of which I would have to give up if I turned to working in all my waking hours.

And that is what I can’t imagine – having to turn away from our new piece of land and the cabin build, sewing, crochet, reading, grad school, gardening, friends, community organizing, playing music, camping, throwing fabulous parties, loving, cooking, meditating, hiking, writing, hanging with the niece and nephew, keeping house, and trying out new things all the time – in order to simply work. Work for a cause, yes. Work for an organization I support, yes. But work, nonetheless.

Which is not how I want to spend *all* my time. Some of my time, of course. I accept the necessity of work and I’m lucky to have a good and well-paid position that allows me to work less than full-time so I can pursue my *life* in the hours when I do not belong to someone else.

I don’t deride anyone who takes their main life sustenance from work, but as I grow into an exuberant middle-age, I realize that I am not a person who wants every waking hour to be spent in the employ of someone else. Nor do I have a single burning passion of my own to turn into a business. I am a generalist at life! Which means I have to do a little of everything in order to be satisfied, and it also means I pick up a lot of skills, abilities and knowledge along the way. (I used to be ashamed of my generalist nature, but no longer!)

In any case, I was relieved to get the note that said I was not wanted for 60+ hours of service per week because it meant I didn’t even get to make the decision  in the end. I was 99.9% sure I would turn it down…… but there was always a chance that .1% of me would win out…. the smidgen that still believes there is a dream job for me out there if only I’m willing to sacrifice a little bit more of myself. It is that .1% that makes me crazy, much of the time, that questions why I don’t have a clearer vocation or higher calling…..

So grateful I have a whole life of good things to counterbalance that tiny, crazy part of me!

I have just returned from four nights of retreat at Rivendell Retreat Center on Bowen Island. Talk about an incredible space – well-organized, welcoming, clean, warm, supportive and quiet – which is everything that one wants a place of respite to be. While there I meditated, walked, and wrote my final paper for my semester – which turned out to be a series of short reflective pieces on the nature of spiritual enlightenment and practice (as I understand, accept and/or reject them). Once I polish those pieces and hand them in I will be posting them here  – starting next week, there should be about ten days of material for the blog. Who knew that all I had to do in order to write was lock myself up for a few days with no other people? The fact that I did barely any talking during that period meant that everything I wanted to say had to go down on paper!

I’ve got two days to finish that up and then it’s off to burn a giant pile of debris in the woods on Saturday – the final stage of land clearing so we can start building our Link Lake Cabin this spring. To recap – the pile of debris looks like this:

There is a whole cabin in pieces under that pile of wood…… and the whole thing will be covered in snow by now as well. But at least we are turning it into a party! I think there are about twelve people going at this point – plus the volunteer fire department showing up. I’m leaving all the logistics of the burning to our land partners and just thinking that I should cook up a large batch of baked beans to take with us on Saturday morning….. I bought a single-burner propane stove for large pots this summer which we can take along to heat it up.

This is where I am and where I’m going right now, feeling pretty relaxed in the present and looking forward to a big fire in my near future!

My partner is currently on a hunting trip, a week in total Saturday to Saturday – which means that I’m almost half-way through his time away. I have to admit, that as much as I always think I want more time alone…… I always get a little bit tweaky when I have the house all to myself for more than a few hours.

Even though I lived on my own for many years, moved several times alone, bought my own home in a small town where I knew very few people, lived the life of a single woman for a solid six years between the age of 28 and 34 — and then continued in my own place until I was 36 when Brian and I moved in together — I feel like I’ve gotten a bit out of practice on this whole “alone” thing. Like it’s awesome because I get to watch all the episodes of Portlandia without feeling guilty — but then when I turn off the computer, the house gets *awfully* quiet.

Mostly what I notice is that I am responsible for filling up all the energetic space in the house – that when I get home from being out, no one has turned a light on for me, and it seems colder inside despite an automatic thermostat. This I remember from living on my own before – especially when I lived on the Sunshine Coast and came home after my long commutes. Also what I remember  is how much time I spend in my head when there’s no one else around and how anxiety-invoking that can be. (I say *can* be, as I am finding that meditating these days helps me get out of my head quicker so my anxiety doesn’t have as much time to build).

A couple of years ago I mentioned this tendency to get anxious when Brian was out of town to my naturopath who suggested it is an indication of co-dependency in my relationship. But I’m not sure that’s it exactly….. I think more, when I am released from all the little daily interactions and on my own that I can hear my inner voice more clearly – same as how I have a much more pronounced startle response when I am meditating and an unexpected sound pops up. By which I mean to say – my base anxiety levels are very high, and Brian’s presence sometimes helps to mute those a little bit. Which is also to say – it’s not co-dependency in my relationship that needs the work, but this other mental health piece.

This isn’t exactly a revelation for me (I’ve been shopping around for a psychologist for a little while and I have someone I’m going to start seeing in the new year) but it is interesting to note the amplification of certain traits through the absence of my partner — and it reminds me how neurotic I could be in all the years I did live alone. It wasn’t that I lived an unhappy life at that time – but without someone to daily reflect and share with (someone who isn’t afraid to tell me when my perceptions of myself are distorted) – I tend to turn inward in a way that isn’t always positive.

On the plus side, I’ve had and still have activities with friends, family  and academia scheduled for every day of Brian’s trip – because I do have lots going on right now – and I’m reminded of what a great and active life I have (and pretty much have always have). Whether on my own or not, I’m pretty good at making things for myself happen – so my life is never boring! Plus this weekend I managed to finish two two crochet pieces finished, did lots of school reading, and had much meditation in between the friendly visiting.

I feel really clear right now, for all this thinking about my negative inner voices — I think because now I can at least identify them as what they are…. something to be deal with….. rather than something to be listened to. It’s certainly a positive to have the quiet time to really hear myself and know that I am on the right path in untangling my life.