On Dreaming

Being unemployed has been very hard work. Emotionally, at least.

Looking for a job has been depressing. First of all, as a resident of the once great but now bankrupt state of California, there are very few jobs to be had. Even fewer that pay near to what I was making. Fewer still that offer the benefits I received. Almost none at all in my industry. And even fewer in any industry that will consider me, in spite of my resume, without the college degree that I so regretfully lack. (In my case, it isn't a matter of finishing my degree. It is a matter of not having spent a single day in college.)

Initially I had thought that I would be scooped up within weeks. I worried that I wouldn't have enough time between jobs to enjoy a little break. There were a couple of jobs that I truly did want - two I still wish I had gotten but I came into the game way too late. A third job should have been a no-brainer but I couldn't have done a better job of sabotaging myself if I had employed military assistance. (Among other things, in a cover letter, instead of writing that I had been recently laid off, I wrote that I had been recently laid.)

The hardest part of this, I think, is that life has been fairly easy for me. For the most part, it has pretty much fallen together nicely in terms of being taken care of. As if by magic, without asking, terrific opportunities have presented themselves to me over the years and I have just stepped into them. And as a result, we have been very comfortably "middle class"; the "American Dream" happened to me. We own a nice home. We have cars for everyone. We take nice vacations and travel. We go out to eat at restaurants and have nice things and nice clothes. We socialize at dinner parties and weddings and bat mitzvahs and even the occasional debutante ball. We volunteer and give of our resources. We go to church. It has been good. And that life, has stalled. Maybe forever. Opportunities are not floating by for me to step on. I am still trying to come to terms with that.

At the same time, there has been a part of me that has always resented having to hold a job. I have envied those women (or men) who have their days free to explore museums, new restaurants, play tennis, volunteer, travel, shop - at whim. In my mind's eye, I could see myself fitting in very well to that kind of lifestyle. So here I am now, with my days free. Admittedly, I didn't walk into it voluntarily so that makes a big difference, but I find I am equally resentful at not having something to do everyday - other than trolling Monster, et al. I am lacking a purpose. Without it, all the museums, restaurants and tennis courts in the world hold little appeal.

When I was working, I don't guess I felt like I had a purpose, but I was so busy being responsible and maintaining a lifestyle that I never had to think about it. When I became bored or unsatisfied I just waited for the feelings to pass. Since unemployment, I have had nothing but time on my hands to contemplate my boredom and dissatisfaction. To feel as though I am addressing that, lately I have been doing a lot of talking about "re-inventing" myself. Lots of talking the talk but in truth, I have NOT been willing to walk the walk because I am secretly waiting for another opportunity to fall from the sky. You see, when you are accustomed to allowing the circumstances of life to invent you, you come to realize that you have put yourself at a deep disadvantage. When you let life happen to you - even if it is a very good life - you learn to ignore your dream. Here's one thing I have figured out: No dream = no purpose.

I have many, many personal reasons for why I believe in God. Evidences, actually. In fact, I see God in the midst of all that is happening right now. There is some peace in that. But that has not stopped me from being afraid. Very afraid. Because if God wants me to find my purpose and follow my dream (and as scary is it is for me to even think it, I must admit that I do have one), it won't look anything like what I've been doing in the past. It would be something entirely new. And there is no logical or responsible reason in this world why I should even think about it, let alone begin to pursue it. It isn't at all that I am afraid that our standard of life will shift to living "smaller". I think everyone is going to have to embrace that and I frankly, don't think that is a bad thing. What has me paralyzed is the idea that I may be required to pursue something different and that I may fail.

It is a bit unfair that at this age, I might need to learn to think like a 20-year-old and believe that the world is my oyster again. Dreaming may have come naturally to me when I was 20 but I have lost my ability. Dreams are nothing but risk. As such, I'm not a fan. I would rather be safe. Except that it has become clear that if I wait for something to happen to me, my future could be extremely grim. With continued purposelessness.

Has God brought me to such a time as this? Because these times are not for the faint of heart. As to the strength of my heart? The jury's still out.