Transitions

The closet is empty, except for what I will have to wear this week.  It took me two hours, two small boxes, and one luggage bag to pack up my life.  I don't have a lot of things and I don't need a lot of things.  I can always get by with the minimum.

July has always been a month of transition, at least for the last four years. Whether it's a new job, a new position,  a new account, or a new house, the first month of the second half of the year has always been marked with change, a move to something different.  Of course, there have been changes in other months, but last Saturday I realized I have been working for four years already.  It's nothing to crow about really since most people my age would have been working 6 or 7 years already.  Most people my age have done something greater or better, moved up the corporate ladder or traveled the world.  I never dreamed of climbing ladders. Maybe traveling the world, but that's a different story.  I've always been contented with my pace and my place.  I never had the intention of winning the rat race.  It was enough that I could live comfortably; a peace of mind knowing my finances are okay.

My parents would tell me how I don't seem to be stressed at all with my work.  I think I still do get stress, I just don't show it very much. Half the time I don't know exactly what I'm doing. I simply go along and learn as I go.  I remember in my last job, I transitioned into four different roles in a span of six months. I stayed in the role I was hired in for three months. Leveled up and stayed in that role for about a month.  Then I was moved again to a new role, which I did for two or three weeks before I moved again to the role I held until I resigned.  In all those transitions, I never knew what I was doing at the beginning.  I would sit silently in hundreds of meetings, my nose profusely bleeding from all the acronyms I don't know.

Those were offered to me and I've always had a why-not attitude even if I don't know what I'm getting into.  Others seem to have a very clear plan on how long they want to stay in one position before looking out for another.  I just seem to grab whatever comes my way.  Maybe from there, some sort of a career would take shape.

If anything, those transitions made me think how I've never really settled into anything.  I was floating from one thing to another.  It made me realize why I hold on to routines, to day-to-day patterns.  I want something to ground all these movements.  I want something to hold on to even if it's a same shit, different day.  The predictability of the everyday is a stark contrast of flitting from one place to another, from one kind of life to another.  So many shoes to try on and so many masks to wear. It'd be nice to have some truths you can believe in.

Maybe that's why I can be so stubborn sometimes. Why I don't exactly have clear career ambitions, but to work myself till I'm dead.  Because work is work, and life is something else. I'm working because there's a life I have in mind, not because I want to run the world or become the next top model.  Work is just a way to get what I want.  I don't really need a lot of things; I've gotten by with almost nothing.  But I have something in mind outside work, some kind of dream that doesn't involve snakes and ladders or moving cheeses.

It's a life I could feel settled into.  A life with someone who can pull me back into something that's permanent and everlasting.  Not exactly a house on a patch of earth, but a home at the end of the world.

Comments

  1. Haiz... Ditto...

    I'd rather not make my life revolve around office work, shooting up the ladder and making lots of money only to end up alienating my self. Even if that's what's expected, even if that's what's success... It would only be okay, would mean something, if only there's someone that I can do it for, because that person is worth it... Amp talaga.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oo! Playground love! Lech!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Existentially

Listen

Tired of Sunsets