Bliss

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I don’t know.  I like to repeat and affirm that phrase, that truth, because so often I feel like I have been around enough to know.   I have been around enough to dangerously start to think I know something about something, and I have to remember, I am as clueless as anyone else as to the vagaries of the universe.

Last night, as I may have mentioned, we convened via Skype a group of friends.  We’re all sort of slouching or striving towards our own individual career Bethlehems.  There’s not only transition, there’s unguided and ungainly flailing out of one thing without it necessarily being into another.  In my case, I spend every day wondering what part of this is just me being frustrated about the situation and what part of it is the situation just being negative and bad news, Charlie.

Things we forget when we go into Freaking Out Ostrich Pose? Taking care of responsibilities is the most profound version of self-care.  This is so much of what bothers me is not doing things out of shame of having not done things or not being able to do them perfectly and letting all of that guilt and embarrassment accrue and culture and pearl until it fills my gut.

So whereas yesterday, it seemed 100% clear that new job was required.  Today, it feels less clear cut even though the positivity is based on one small piece of good news, but I think that’s because I was able to handle a few problems today.  I felt and took responsibility for one or two things even if I couldn’t fix the larger issues.  I felt managerial rather than completely adrift.

Maybe that’s a result of the dream I had where I thought my job was to wash very egotistical and rude women’s feet.  I should have gotten more sleep.

But our late night conversation still hung about my head as I came home from work today and watched a Victory Garden episode wherein a hospital chef talked about his passion for cooking healthy local food.   In all of this excitement of what our Seattle trip’s gonna be about and talking about our collective passions for cheese, and artisanal food and farmers markets, I remembered how much I loved our festival and farmers market.

That was a part of my job a few years ago where I felt responsible, a hub of information, integral.  I had it all in my head and felt valued, useful, creative, serving.  I was a piece of the core for this positive thing.  I had friends I could hang out while doing this, we had a mutual respect, and whatever hard work it was…it was FUN.

This is all a long and roundabout way of saying that I realized there is a relatively nascent art festival that happens a few blocks away.  They were asking for volunteer help and I…inquired.  Obviously, not a paying gig.  Not sure that there’s ever likely to be an avenue for working it into a paying gig.  Not sure if everyone involved is going to be crazy (which seems likelier than not) or if my experience of an art festival would translate to what they’re doing or if I might regret offering my time up or if there might be some single, wolfish, sarcastic gentleman involved who I can slowly drive insane with my loveliness (my main motivation for participating in anything, actually, probably as unlikely as a lightning strike going through the top of my head).  Not sure, but I did it.

I did go to their website and see the Joseph Campbell quote: “When you follow your bliss, you begin to meet people who are in the field of your bliss, and they open doors to you.”  Which had the weight of omen to it.   The festival is also attached to a Farmers Market.

I mean, for so long I wanted to pare away all the other components of the job and just do these two things.  So, who knows.  I don’t, but I’ve got some food in me and I feel like less distraught and there are more things to do even now so FARE WELL until tomorrow.

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