On the Verge…

Security. It’s always looked upon as desirable:  a secure job, a secure home, a secure future, a secure investment.  The list is endless of the secure things or situations we desire. Why? While the answers to that question are myriad, for me, and for many others: security implies continuity, safety, protection from outside forces, longevity, and so many other things that make us feel less vulnerable and protected.  In this, however, is the myth of permanence. Of landing the perfect job, that we keep until our golden years, retiring with a gold watch, and then spending the rest of our lives in bliss. Or of the ideal marriage, to the man or woman of your dreams, to grow with each other, more in love each year. And how often does this happen?  In my experience, often enough to keep the dream alive for so many. And that’s not a bad thing; an ideal that gives hope, gives love, and a sound future, but one that also takes work, heartache, pain, and sometimes the wisdom to realize the current situation is not working for anyone involved, and it might be better to part company. But, if we go back to our original statement, security in anything is a myth, a fable used by us, and against us, to convince ourselves that this time, this person IS the answer to our prayers.  But no job is forever. Marriages that seem Heaven-blessed crumble and fall apart. Blue-chip companies fold. Real estate values fluctuate like a weather-vane.  And why does any of this matter? Because, when ‘security’ does not work out for us in whatever way, we begin to try and reconstruct the paradigm of what kept us happy for so long. As we begin to do so, the task gets muddy, difficult to define, and stymies us as to what we need to do to approximate a similar situation. And…. It. Doesn’t. Work.  And it doesn’t work because it never really existed anyway; it was just a means to justify how we were living at the time, as in “Golden Handcuffs,” to coin a phrase. My own case in point: a job I held twice (yes, once was not enough) ended with a massive layoff, a comfy severance, outplacement service, and a ‘sorry, but good luck’ from my then-boss. Not an easy breakfast to digest, but but the end of the day, it realized I didn’t have to do that stupid job again, nor would I ever need to converse with the micromanaging egotist that delivered the message.  But, five months later, as severance was coming to an end, and offers were beginning to come, I went for prestige of company, location, and salary, all reproducing, and one-upping, my previous situation. And the result: less time for personal projects, less time with my family, more time in New York, and far, far less autonomy in deciding how my day would be spent at work. This lasted nine months, the human gestation period, before I moved on to a much better, but very different, position that challenged me, made me whine and complain that I didn’t have this or didn’t have that, all the while trying to ignore that I was happy when I was actually at work, with a great team of people, and the bills were being paid, and I was okay.  Until one day I sat back and really saw where I was, what I was doing, and that this was allowing me…no, challenging me, to begin to really change in how I led my life that would bring the true, deep satisfaction of what I as doing being enough. And no. I’m not quite there yet, but with the knowledge that what I am doing is the thing I need to do to reach the next level, the next step, of my life, I am creating new ways of using this experience to teach me as much as possible, before the next logical step presents itself….