Have you ever had one of those moments where you realize that the solution you've been seeking for a particular predicament, for days, months or even years has been there, right in front of you the whole time? I've had several of these smack-my-forehead-with-the-palm-of-my-hand moments lately. I'm not talking about running into three different discount clothing stores looking for something to wear to my husband's 10 year high school reunion, and then settling on a sundress that's been hanging in my closet for at least five years, before deciding we couldn't go at all. (Ah, but that's a different post...) My light bulb moments of late have not been of the wardrobe variety, they've been far more gratifying, and long awaited.
Most of you know I've been a hairstylist for almost a decade. I attended beauty school directly after high school and have had a viable means of supporting myself and/or contributing to the household income for as many years. Cutting hair was something I happened to excel at. The basic geometry of it, lines and angles, thinking in spacial contexts all came naturally to me. Thankfully so, because at age 17, upon graduation, one could rightly say I didn't have much of a plan for myself or my education, or much motivation, ambition, clarity or confidence for that matter. I've been so thankful over the years for my skill and my trade, and for the people I've met along the way doing this work of making people feel better about their appearances. (Dramatic pause here) However, I've always known that I wanted something more. Something else.
Not having any remote idea what that something else was plagued me for years. I went back to school at 21 looking for some direction. I took all kinds of different liberal studies courses hoping something would light a fire in me. I waffled back and forth between pursuing a degree in something that would utilize my creative abilities, and conversely, something that was safe and dependable. (Hence my brief stint in a medical assisting program.) This vacillation seemed to parallel another trend that was occurring also, my emotional well being. Feeling good meant following my creative bliss with utter abandon. Feeling bad meant finding something safe and unnoticeable; creativity was far too vulnerable.
Finishing up a vague two year liberal studies degree, left me with no answers. Then I had my daughter, and the thick fog of new motherhood descended upon me and lingered for a long time. Don't misunderstand me, I was the happiest I'd been in years, and surprisingly, suffered no postpartum depression. I was however, struck by the trappings of isolation and lost personal identity that many new mothers encounter. Figuring out "what to do with my life" became more elusive all the time. Retrospectively, I know that simply caring for my daughter was both grounding my purpose and focus, as well as lifting my spirits out of the swamp of my self pity.
Finally, I got my act together and found a great part time job at a sweet salon and got into UMaine. I hemmed and hawed about what to declare as a major. Communications...business...psychology...nah, nah, nah. I finally settled on English because, I figured, I had always been good at writing about things I'd read. It seemed too simple, or maybe, not good enough. It seemed far fetched to think I could unearth a long lost bit of raw talent some eighth grade teacher had told me I had. And then, (I'd insert a cute light bulb drawing here, if I could figure out how,) revelation came to me. Almost suddenly, deciding to become a writer made perfect sense. Why had I been so reluctant to accept the fact that majoring in English with a writing concentration was the right answer, the answer I'd longed and searched and waited for. It was something I already possessed, a part of me. Why do we refuse to see what is right there in front of us. What's that saying about the nose on your face?
The moral of this admittedly self indulgent manifesto is that sometimes the most difficult situations have the most common sense solutions. It just takes being humble enough to accept them. Making the decision to start writing and subsequently, pouring my heart out in these blog postings definitely feels vulnerable. I'm not yet sure what avenue my writing career will take or how I'll do it, and that's a little scary. Life is full of uncertainty; we all have to make critical decisions based on faith sometimes, and follow through to see how it unfolds.
Also, in a related lightbulb moment story, I've quit trying to be a runner, and have taken up yoga with a fierce new found passion. More to come on that.
Go forth and grab your life by the beans everyone, and thanks for reading.
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