A while ago I posted about my realization that I love to write. It wasn’t really a realization that I love to write, I knew that about myself already. It was more of a realization that I want to write more, possibly even write as part of my career, or even as a career.
I love my current job, but I am basically an assistant. There’s nothing wrong with that. But I have been feeling unfulfilled lately in life. I want to do more, and be more, and I know that I can. So when the opportunity presented itself, I jumped on it.
We have a monthly newsletter called The Grapevine. Usually members of the communications committee write the articles for this newsletter. This month, nobody was available to write the story about what happened in our Board of Directors meeting. As soon as I heard this news, I volunteered to write it. There were two board meetings, one on my day off, and I didn’t care. I went, took my notes, wrote my article and saved the day.
Completing this task successfully has been so exciting for me. I love to write, even if I’m summarizing a pretty boring meeting. The newsletter is read by around 600 people. Not much, but it’s a start, and it’s just what I needed.
Ever have a really bad experience with someone being extremely rude to you, without being provoked? I just did. I work at a clubhouse for a homeowner’s association. People come here to exercise, swim, play pool or cards, etc. There are rules, especially involving guests and children. One rule is that kids under 16 years of age cannot play on the pool table. Its an extremely beautiful pool table, and serious pool players use it regularly. This afternoon, a woman and her grandson were beginning to play pool. This is the part of my job I absolutely hate. I have to remind people of the rules and enforce them. So I politely told the woman that kids under the age of 16 cannot use the pool table. She got very defensive and began to rant about the fact that she pays into this homeowner’s association and should be able to do what she wants. She told her grandson not to touch anything because I might “have a fit.” After a bit more ranting, she left and said, “I hope you have a wonderful day now that you ruined ours.” I was very hurt by this situation. In general, I’m a very sensitive person, but this encounter was uncalled for and unprovoked.
When things like this happen, I try to think of reasons for it. First I think of what I said, what I did, how I reacted and if I was appropriate. In this case, I didn’t do anything wrong. Then I change my perspective and start thinking about what would cause someone to lash out like that. I consider the fact that maybe she’s having a terrible day, maybe something bad just happened to her, maybe she’s been treated badly by someone else here in the past. I’m not naive. I know that some people are just not nice. But for the most part, I assume the good in people and try to put myself in their shoes… It helps!
What do you really truly love to do? I think it’s difficult to place it. We think of what we love in different terms. We think of what makes money. We think of our current jobs and place the things we love about it. But do we really truly love it?
In college, I studied psychology. I really, truly love psychology; but I’m not actually using it, I’m not taking it further. I don’t want to be a counselor, a psychologist, a psychotherapist, etc. Last night I had an epiphany. It’s that I really, truly love to write. I love getting my thoughts out. I love educating people about interesting things. I love having discussions about said things.
If I really chose to take something I love as a career option, I would write. I love it deep down in my soul; the core of my being loves to write. I don’t know what the next step is… besides to keep writing.
Breathing? Eating? Sleeping? Working? Avoiding? Thinking? Wishing? Hoping? Wanting? Knowing? Not knowing? Drinking? Laughing? Smiling? Frowning?
What am I doing with my life?