Opportunity

So much of the past few months has been dominated by happenstance, driven through the serendipity arising from a future unknown. I realized that the inevitable come-down following any significant transition is a result of a seemingly stagnant state, the belief that this period of respite will never change, will never grow or develop into something of greater reward.

I’m someone who plans. I’m someone so afraid of this unknown that I go to unbelievable lengths to avoid its possibility. This anxiety and this fear that my efforts would be unmatched weighed over all experience, burdening my summer with a trepidation that nothing would work out, that I would forever be plagued by the possibility that my skills, experience, and perspective would be seen without value, without beneficial application.

But then I bought my tickets out west, believing in nothing beyond the potential of luck and accidental discovery. And with the promise of Portland emerging in my plans, things began to work, with chance weaving itself into the particular grooves and niches that I needed to fulfill.

It’s important to note, as well, that none of this has been reached through my own efforts and volition. I’ve been supported in every way possible, from a gorgeous Vermont send-off with friends to the most wonderful summer evening in Virginia closing my time (for now) on the east coast. With logistics settled by the kindness of lovely friends and family, I’ve been supported in the abundance of meditative conversations, everything from the reward of perseverance to the importance of letting others into your certain trajectory, trusting that their participation in your life will allow for illumination, a greater vibrancy in all that you do. What’s more, is that with these conversations and with this support, I feel loved. I feel taken care of, seeing that people want me to be a part of their lives. I’m so thankful for family, and for friends who feel just the same.

I’m still unsettled, not yet calmed or relieved by a particular schedule or routine. But in reflecting, I’ve realized that maybe this is best. Maybe it’s good for me that I haven’t yet built expectations or constructed a similar assumption in the outlook of everyday. And secretly, maybe I know now that it’s better not to hope for this stability, because it is in the constant shifts of each day that we adapt, learn, and change.

Isabelle EymanComment