A job. Yes, a job! You may think a job is such a small situation to manifest. But it took me five years to get it; the concept in this context and the job itself! Not just any job, but a job that satisfies all things I associated with my job. I will be honest, even still I would say I have more to allow, more to flow to me when it comes to landing the job of my dreams.
The job of my dreams
What does that even mean? I do not know. I didn’t know and that is the only reason I have this story to narrate. Many times (most times) we don’t truly know what we want. We may think all about our desires and chant all about how much we want them to be fulfilled. However, if we do not get out of our mental ways, none of the thinking is ever going to produce any desired outcomes.
So What Happened Exactly?
Here’s what my situation was a few years ago. I graduated from my writing program and absolutely abhorred the idea of having a job where I wrote for someone, a company, or a corporation. I came from that background; having worked as a writer of all sorts. Except fiction. I moved to a foreign nation only to get into a particular fiction writing program. Fiction meant everything to me. It still does. My absolute and perfect job was to get into the world of fiction, literature, publishing, and stories. I didn’t understand how it was possible. I was trying to find practical ways to get in–applying to hundreds of literary jobs. Only to be rejected or to hear that the position just got filled. I would sway between taking up usual corporate jobs and gigs to pay my bills, but I could never get the ideal job. I would often plan and plot that I could pay bills through these jobs that I never enjoyed, and in my free time, I’d write my novel. Again, I told myself to be practical and do what numerous other aspiring writers and artists do to survive in this world–take up odd jobs, pretend we belong in society as a function, and only activate the imaginative mind when we are aloof and alone.
In the rush and stress of finding a job to sustain myself, I often landed jobs with colleagues who didn’t understand my work or me. All jobs could be fit into one category: wrong. The amount of resistance I developed against corporate jobs and the corporate world was destroying my mental peace. I didn’t want anyone around me who spoke tech, banking, healthcare, money, or anything that wasn’t art. I didn’t want to be surrounded by anyone who wasn’t an artist. I didn’t want to listen to anyone talk to me about the nature of money, the tendencies of life, the rules of people, and anything that forced me to be a part of the world. I just wanted to give up. This was ongoing when I moved to a new city for a technical writing job which was extremely difficult to land and painful to execute. Working with non-writers daily killed my strength to come home and work on my private projects in the after-hours. I was extremely suffocated and I didn’t find a way out. Daily I’d show up miserable and I would desperately wish for something, even though I was extremely clueless about what I wanted to do. I uprooted my life and now in a new country, I was facing so many restrictions on everything. My experiences scared me to a point where I started believing my type of jobs, situations, and creativity didn’t exist and/or what I have always dreamt of was nothing but stupid. Even though I had become numb to my situation and was simply floating through my days without processing any emotion, my heart/inner self was desperately wishing for a way out. As a result, I got fired from the technical writing job. I was happy with what had happened. Or at most visibly relieved.
Tables Turned But Nothing Shifted
As anyone would imagine, in this economic age and the trends of the market, I was not able to land a job. I lost a stable yet suffocating technical writing job. And yes, all sorts of problems sprouted for me that usually do when you are unemployed. Three months into almost burning through my savings, I landed a minimum-wage administrative job. And I was still miserable. This time I was at fault, I thought, and I was upset that I kicked away the fiscal support I had. But I was better in my emotional composure. The administrative job was easy on my mind. It gave me a good chunk of my day where I was sitting at a desk, getting paid by the hour, but I could read or write whatever I wanted. The only two problems were: 1. my manager who was the most loud being I had ever come across. And Manager was also the most talkative person around me. 2. The commute was an absolute horror; took me 1.5 hours each way. But I didn’t give up. I tried writing at work, and I gorged on pages of literature on my way every day. I still struggled at this job, because Manager would break my focus constantly. Manager wasn’t evil but I hated Manager for “doing this to me.” And the commute made me miserable. I earned no time for anything in the day.
And Then Things Shifted…for the Worse
After I began working as an administrative assistant, I stopped applying to jobs since whatever disappointment and failures I was experiencing snatched all hope and made me believe I would never get a decent job. Coming up to one year at this job, I spent a lot of holiday time with family. Family time wasn’t anything new but this time I had decided I would not talk about my job or career that was failing. I was completely focused on ignoring any thoughts, feelings, and talks of career and employment. And so, after three weeks, I felt this curiosity to see what jobs were available near me. And so after almost a year, I wanted to apply for jobs. I started prepping my resume and I applied to all jobs that felt nice and pleasant to me. I did not research anything beyond entertaining the thought “Will I like this work?” By the time I was done applying for jobs, the same feeling of utter confusion trapped me. I thought a year of break from job applications should do it for me. But it didn’t. I still didn’t know what kind of jobs I wanted or could willingly commit to. Yes, it was true I was mostly the problem; I couldn’t like any job except for writing. I felt this entitlement to have whatever I wanted. But before these thoughts, inner monologues, justifications, reasonings, and battles could take over, in two days, I got shortlisted for a job. And in a week, I had an offer letter in my email from a restaurant. Now, I was going to be a restaurant manager. I was eager to quit my administrative job and take a three-week mini vacation where I wrote to my heart’s satisfaction. I was happy but I knew in the upcoming days I may not be able to get so much to work on my writing.
Then They Shifted for the Best
I joined the restaurant to be trained as their new manager. My time as a trainee at this restaurant was a nightmare that I’d never want to visit again. I’d rather slit my wrists than do a restaurant job and I truly honor all the people who work in the food industry all over the planet! The long hours, constant clamor, rush, chatter, and clanking of dishes traumatized the loner in me. I didn’t last four weeks here, and then there I was, unemployed again, facing the same troubles I did the last I got fired from the writing job two years ago. The only difference this time was I had lesser savings and I had a car loan on me. A minute detail entry: I ended up buying a car to commute to the restaurant. For the next three weeks, I applied to all types of jobs on every job portal. And still nothing showed up.
How did I get out of my way?
And then finally I gave up. I decided if this wasn’t going to work out for me, I’d rather give up my life than live like that. I decided if in the next month I don’t get a job I will move back home. And so for a few days I just couldn’t think (I’m glad) of anything at all except that I failed. I failed in sustaining a life I had tried building in a new country. I was too numb from the shock and pain of my failure and so I was completely thoughtless. Admist all this, I took refuge in reading. I read my favorite nove again. I didn’t churn any words on my writing project (a novel), but I simply journaled all my feelings if they surfaced. In the last week, I got an email saying I was hired for an adminstrative job. I ended up taking the new adminstrative job.
So!
The new adminstrative job pays more than the previous one (nice!). The workplace is located a 10-minute walk from my home (no commute!). My new manager isn’t talkative (yay!). I am able to manage my time more efficiently; I write everyday for 1-2 hours. I have no complaints. I still don’t have a writing job. I still don’t work in literature or publishing. But I am content for now.
The way all this unfolded was hurtful and extremely erratic. But if not for the first adminstartive job and the restaurnat job I’d never be able to buy a car. If not for the pain caused by the restaurant job, I’d land the new adninstrative job! And that’s why I say I’m in progress. One day, whenever I allow or release this resistance, I will be working as a writer for a compnay/coroporation I love.
And so we are all work in progress. Our desires are always in progress. The hack, if any, is to simply let it go. And I know “let it go” is an intensly loaded phrase, and even more difficult to practice. So my approach is to say to myself outloud, it will all happen and if it doesn’t it’s alright because I will die one day. And just because it will all end in the end, I will not spoil my mood worrying about it now.