I'm enjoying this period of time I have fondly dubbed my career sabbatical, and I'm filling in the spaces with intense creativity. My spiritual mother, Sri Karunamayi, visits the Bay Area next week, as well. One of her programs is on March 19, coinciding with the “supermoon” and the day prior to the first day of Spring. Just like so many buds waking up as the weather changes, my personal issues bloom reminding me of what I should focus on when She is here.
This visit, I’m thinking about a lot more than myself.
It would be simple to say the morning started with a bang, but it was more like deathly silence. My family and I woke to news of the devastation in Japan and discovered ours and other coastal towns were in a lockdown position, waiting for a tsunami. There was an official warning here which closed the schools, and had people hunkering down to gather their emergency supplies. Although Elizabeth hoped to get a day off, she didn’t because her school is in a different district. We drove down the long road that leads out of the valley, to the top of the hill, and then down to the ocean, and it was quieter than an average Sunday morning. People congregated at the hill’s top, their cars parked, and eyes peeled on the water in the distance. The news coverage had citizens fleeing their homes, even the people who didn’t need to, seeking higher ground, and blocking the main roads. It reminds me of the earthquake in 1989 when I motored home on a Muni bus while watching San Franciscans gathered outside with portable televisions and cases of beer. Today, the big wave never arrived on the Pacifica coastline, not like it did in Hawaii and Santa Cruz, but it didn’t matter. People were scared to death, regardless.
While we were enjoying our tea, I received a voicemail message from my former counterpart in Houston. She got her pink slip today, making it official: the company riffed (aka layed off) every single one of us in the West Region, with no exception. This virtually confirms there was a plan over a year ago not only to eliminate the position, but each of us personally along with our demographically appropriate annual salaries. I know it’s business, but it still feels personal, more so now because it’s happened to all the people I worked with and still care about. I hoped at least one of us might be an exception. More than a month after being let go, I’m reluctant to return to Corporate America, and I’m still not sure if this is because my confidence took such a beating or because I’m ready to move on to something else. For example, it’s obvious gift baskets won’t pay the mortgage. Leslie thinks getting my real estate license is a great idea (and something she and I can partner on), but I can’t imagine absorbing that much information and deploying it effectively in this complex market without an experienced mentor. I know if that is what I'm supposed to be doing, that's what I'll do, and I think it would be super to have something Leslie and I can do as a team. I'm just not sure it's the right thing yet.
|Family Movie Night Basket|
I know I’m standing on the precipice of intense personal change. I don’t know where I’ll land when and if I jump. I ask myself repeatedly, “What is my destination?” I don’t know the answer to this, but this I do know:
Whatever my destination is, I refuse to arrive there scared to death.
I want to be informed, but I won’t be crippled by what I’m hearing.
This great orchestration of global change, is out of our control, and in the hands of The Great Mother.
I'll keep creating, and I won’t live in fear.