Last August I was relatively sure my life would look different a year later. There were hints of potential transition but I didn't know then how it would all play out.
I've intentionally blogged less this summer as events have unfolded but it's time to peel back the veil. Just a bit.
This past spring I decided to move out of my duplex. I'd lived there the entirety of my 4 years in Nashville. It was an old house and poorly maintained and while I loathe moving, I conceded defeat. The risks of staying were greater than the rewards of staying put.
Once I set my sights on a new home, nearly all the "for rent" signs disappeared. I felt weary before my search truly began. Conversations turned to how it's not a renter's market and what would I do if my lease ended before I'd signed a new one.
As much as I loved living by myself, all signs pointed toward getting a roommate. A friend and I decided to join forces so we'd have more "purchasing" power. Even then, it was hard to find a place. People were so hungry to live in my neighborhood, landlords were deluged with applications seconds after announcing availability.
I began to regret not renewing my lease. Then we had another major storm and I remembered why I wasn't renewing it.
In the end, I was able to extend my lease one month and we did find a house. It's 10 minutes from my previous neighborhood. I go to the same library and post office.
We're 99% settled in, still figuring out what to hang on the living room walls. I've adjusted to having a roommate, even appreciating it. It's nice to share some of the responsibilities.
A few weeks after I moved, I sent out the first Enneagram Coach newsletter, thus launching my business. As I told subscribers, I never could have imagined starting my own business when my friend first told me about the Enneagram 4 years ago. And yet, it makes complete sense.
The timing turned out to be providential as well.
June 2011 I quit my pediatric social work position to focus on writing and take care of my burned out self. I found an amazing family to nanny for so I could pay the bills. Out of respect for them, I don't write about my experience as a nanny (with one pre-approved exception). Consequently, many of my friends believe I make my living by blogging and writing.
The past three years have been a gift but kids grow up and it's time to move on. We are all very sad and I can't quite wrap my mind around a daily weekday routine that doesn't wrap around theirs. In the end, it is what's best for all of us. It won't mean the end of the relationship, thankfully.
In another week or so, I will work my last day as a nanny. And then...I'm not sure.
This is the first time I haven't had a plan B. I retired from social work in January. I have a good understanding of jobs I don't want to do. I haven't the faintest clue what I do want to do, other than read, write, and Enneagram Coach.
With time, I would love to do The Enneagram Coach full-time.
For now, I need another job. A source of steady income while I build my business and write books. (The novel I finished December 2011 begs for a follow up and a non-fiction project received new direction when I attended the Festival of Faith and Writing in April.)
When I moved to Nashville, when I quit my social work job, I was equal parts excited and terrified, which has always served as a sign I'm on the right path.
The terror outweighs the excitement most days. In my prayers, I ask for a job to drop in to my lap, while knowing it won't happen that way.
There are days, however, I see a glimpse of hope and I'm able to dream of what might be. Then the excitement outweighs the terror.
Times of transition are difficult. The past couple of weeks have been filled with sadness, over leaving my nanny family, over Ferguson, over situations my friends face.
I'm allowing myself to cry and rest and be swept away in a good book. I'm soaking up the good moments and grieving the bad. I'm hugging nanny "baby" a whole lot as our days together dwindle. I'm trying to lean on friends in tangible ways and allow them to carry me.
I'm trying to believe this summer of transition is leading me to a better place. I'm trying to believe it will come to an end.