Observing My Gap Year Slip Away
One year ago, on Dec 23, I had to leave the job I had invested so much.
That was not an easy Christmas, and the final blow of a series.
I took a pause. A gap year. At 48. But much of it is gone regaining the life I had lost. And recovering. Yes, let’s call a trauma for what it is. It’s not that apparently successful persons are exempt.
For half of this year, I dreamt of my lost job, from any possible angle. I didn’t miss a night. Days were better, even if not easy, because I was looking for a different future. It hurt, but I was optimistic. I had my last occasion to change my life.
Luckily, I’m quite self-repairing, so wounds are there, but I’m on my way to let my past go.
Suddenly, after that event, my attitude toward life changed. I felt the need to do without many unnecessary things. Just, I’m not interested in most of the shining crap. People included. Authenticity has become a priority for me. Not that I wasn’t authentic before. I always tried to. But I let other things distract me. I dedicated too much time to people who didn’t deserve it, and I dedicated too less time to people who deserved it.
I know myself better, and I peeled off more layers. Too many layers?
Authenticity is a luxury, and has always been. It costs too much for most of the people. Mostly, it costs loneliness and discomfort. Most are not even interested in it. But if you are, what remains of your social life? Well, very little. Maybe your dears. Maybe one or two friends. Maybe some written words, read by some nut like you. Nothing more.
A “standard” life is not necessary, but some “standard” needs — yours and of your family — are. Being authentic complicates things a lot. You are out of the game. Out in the dark. If you have dreams too, you have to be Superman, to get out of it, while enduring images of others dancing their safety.
I’m not the first with this problem. Usually, it’s solved. They call the solution “responsibility.” It brings you money, and a new jacket for your son.
Well, I’m in the middle of the problem. I don’t like standard solutions. I’m not good with them. At all. I have only one life, and a good part of it is gone. I don’t want to waste what is left. But I don’t want to wear the old clothes too. What compromises await me? Am I stuck without hope?
It’s not easy. They throw out posts and books about changing your mind, changing your life, and fly to your “success.” Reality is that only a handful of people succeed, despite mindset and efforts, among a sea of “standard” lives. Others, outside, are lost souls. At present, I’m one of the latter.
In this lap year, I studied, I thought, and I wrote. I’ve known Medium. I hope I’ll publish a book too.
But that’s not reality for me. Nor my future. I wish it were.
I have a long road ahead, and no indications. Time to pack up and invent something.
Game time is coming.