Hello 2024: Can You Help Me Find My Way?

I LOVE New Year's Day--it's a fresh start to a 365-day cycle of new beginnings. I have the typical New Year's Resolutions--eat less, exercise more, save money, get organized, be kind, be my best self... These resolutions, or mini-goals, however, will progress and regress throughout the year. The hope is that I will have more "good days" of staying committed than bad.

I'm looking forward to 2024 for a different reason--

to find myself--or perhaps more, to find meaning. 

Source

Over the years, my dream board (yes, I have one) has become cluttered, so much so, that I don't even remember everything I posted. As I am writing this, I've decided to take everything down and start from scratch. There are pictures of what I'd like our house to look like if we ever have it remodeled. Those will go back up. Then there are picture quotes that came from a calendar I used to own; those are going back up, too. 

I also have pictures of National Parks. Interestingly, I have one of Bryce Canyon and another of Yosemite. Did I post them after I went or before? I don't remember, but I do know that I have had things on my dream board come true. Once I posted a picture of a Subaru Outback, and within the year, we ended up buying one. (That was before I even knew we were going to need a car!) 

I have some business cards posted--mostly to go along with remodeling the house. They've been up there for years--maybe even a decade. I might do a Google search to see if these companies are still in business and then put them somewhere else for safekeeping... I have salary requirements listed there, too. Amounts that are not super extravagant but would help us lead a more financially secure life.

As I look at my dream board, which, in all honesty, hasn't been tended to much over the years, the one picture that stands out says, "To find yourself, sometimes you need to be lost." I liked the picture at the time because it's of an "A-Frame" house--(I love them)--and it's in the woods--(my favorite place to be).

The picture gravitates to me now because that's me--I'm lost! After being laid off (after 21 years of service to a small liberal arts college), I spent the majority of last year looking for a job. At first, I was selective, but after having interview after interview with no job offer in-site, I started applying to any position that remotely utilized my skillset--even jobs where I would be totally unhappy (writing for a health insurance agency--YUCK!)

When I finally did score a position in conservation, I truly wanted it to be "my new second home," but as I started learning more about the position, I realized it's not "my forever" either. The people are nice, and I am in love with the mission (to protect Mother Nature), but the daily work itself (pay bills, take minutes, print expense reports, attend small festivals to hand out brochures) feels trite and uneventful. Yes, I did get to sign off on a fee donation of 26 acres to our little land trust (a beautiful piece of property with Hemlock forest and vernal pools), but it wasn't because I made it happen. It's because someone with a generous heart (and a desire for a tax deduction) decided to give it to us. 

When I worked in higher education, I touched people's lives, and thankfully I continue to teach. As a dean, my position mattered. I not only helped students graduate, but I also helped thousands more learn about our programs, enroll, and believe in themselves. I was part of important discussions about policy, equity, inclusion, curricula, mental health, career development, and student success. I miss that, and yet, there is a part of me that continues to say, "Stay in conservation--your heart is there, too."

I am lost. A huge part of me wants to go back to higher education, but then I fantasize about other opportunities. Do I want to get a real estate license? Do I want to get my Ph.D.? Do I want to do my own podcast? Do I want to work for a retreat center? Do I want to write a book? The truth is that I have many interests, such as writing, career development, student success, mental & spiritual health, conservation, and sustainability, to name a few. The big question is--where do I go from here?

Last year taught me that planning doesn't necessarily get us closer to our goals. If I could have made things happen for myself, I would have been working as a dean again at a nearby college. (I was interviewed for four such positions.) Instead, after dozens of interviews, I was hired by a land trust! I learned that I had to keep an open mind and an open heart, and more, I learned that I need to be patient.

Now I am lost in the woods with a compass, asking which way is "true North." Last year, since I had the time, I would take our dog, Bruce, on hikes with no set plans. We would try various trails and see where they would lead. Sometimes, they would lead to swampy marshes, and we would have to turn back, and other times, we found hidden gems (waterfalls, mirror lakes, and busy beaver ponds) where we would stand and marvel for hours. The woods started to feel like my sanctuary, and I repeated to myself the words of John Muir again and again...

"And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul."

Sometimes, during our hikes, I would rehearse answers to potential interview questions, and other times, I would go to contemplate--to find meaning or get clarity about this next stage in my life. In many ways, life was handing me a blank slate--to be anything I wanted, and still, fears about money, my age, and my abilities clouded the journey.

I wanted to believe all my meditation walking led me to "my forever," but now I see that it simply presented "a next step." With so much indecisiveness and ambiguity about what I want to do, I realize now I need to take a step back and enjoy the journey.

Last year, I was in panic mode. "I need a job," I'd tell myself again and again. This year, I can take out the panic and simply be. Of course, I am busy--I work full-time at the land trust, teach multiple courses, and give library talks about career readiness (all while being a mom, wife, daughter, dog mom, and friend). 

Still, I will make time for discovery. It's okay to be lost. 

I have uncluttered my dream board and will put up new hopes and dreams as they emerge.