“When I run after what I think I want, my days are a furnace of stress and anxiety; if I sit in my own place of patience, what I need flows to me, and without pain. From this I understand that what I want also wants me, is looking for me and attracting me. There is a great secret here for anyone who can grasp it.” – Rumi
I came across this not too long ago, and it resonated deeply with me. I’ve written previously on closed doors and dead ends, and of the frustration of frantically searching for happiness everywhere, yet finding it nowhere. The next chapter of my life, on which I will be embarking soon, was one which practically fell into my lap, with virtually no effort expended on my part.
It’s funny how it works out sometimes. Struggling so hard for so long, and suddenly, the right thing finally finds you like it was looking for you all along, too. Every part of it – speaking to a recruiter in Seattle, interviews, house hunting, finding a house within 1 day of actually physically viewing listings, having that offer accepted the same night, inspections passing with flying colors, high credit scores to facilitate the lending process… No major hiccups yet. It’s like I’m guided by a force much greater than luck. This life was desperately seeking me while I was desperately seeking it, and we finally found each other. We embraced lovingly on the cold, wet streets of a hard city like San Francisco. There was relief. Silence of the inner turmoil I’ve lived in longer than I can remember. Actual excitement. Romance.
Since this whirlwind picked me up in December, I think I’ve had maybe one or two down days. I’m used to so many more, having depression and not medicating myself for it. I’ve focused on the positive, thus life is positive right now. There is hope. That, too, baffles me. I’m able to get through all the muck and shit if I just have something to look forward to. I’ve known that all along.
I sit, on my last full day with my firm, at my client’s offices about an hour south of San Francisco. I’ve transitioned what knowledge I can. I’ve reviewed what work has been prepared thus far, and given value-added comments to improve it. I won’t be able to see what comes of it, though. I’ve done the separation checklist tasks like transferring my retirement account out of the firm, turned in my corporate AMEX card, switching my mobile phone to personal liability, turned in my firm-issued iPad, done my final timesheet, and shook the hands of my client to say goodbye. I’ve drafted a farewell email to be sent Monday before I turn in my laptop, with my personal contact info and LinkedIn profile should anyone want to keep in touch. It’s like I’m supposed to cry, but I’m not sad. There is an overwhelming emotion, and I don’t know if I can quite put my finger on it. It’s certainly not sadness, though I can feel a tinge of it, perhaps around the edges.
Like a life well-lived, I leave with no regrets. I explored this career path into another country, I explored back home again after that walkabout. There is nothing more for me here. I can peacefully pass into the next chapter with no unfinished business. I’ve done all I can do. Is this contentment? Is this a sense of climax, of completion? Usually there are so many deadlines, one after another, I don’t have time to take to celebrate the completion of a project because I’m already focused on the next one.
That next project isn’t quite ready for me, yet. The new job starts February 16 (which is kind of a funny story because I wanted to start February 15, mid month, good round number, but apparently, and I never knew this – there’s a HOLIDAY in February! I’ve never actually had it off! President’s Day! Who knew?) The new condo closes and I take possession on February 29.
I have some time in San Francisco to wrap up my affairs before flying one-way on February 12 to my new city. I’ve arranged for an Airbnb for the few weeks between my arrival date and the date the condo closes. It’s in a part of Seattle I wanted to live in to get a feel for, but ended up not going with a place there: Capitol Hill. This will be my first stint in a new city where I won’t be living in the gay boy capital of the city. I lived in Darlinghurst in Sydney, and near the Castro in San Francisco. On the judgmental map of Seattle, I’ll be with the Single Girls Drinking Wine, which suits me just about right. Yep, grownup panties on.
I’m taking this moment for what it is. A moment of clarity. Of understanding. Of peace. Of looking forward. Of closure. “It’s really happening,” I have to tell myself over and over again. Squeeeeeee.