As I sit and listen to the traffic outside my window, I reflect on life in NYC where the bedroom sound was similar. However, there are a few marked differences, and not just in that the traffic is more fluid here than the block by block gridlock.
Today I was offered a reporting job… an opportunity that I had semi-heartedly explored a while ago but thought had long dried up.
And as of the end of last week, I more or less have a job offer at an ad agency, too. I've never had such a banner month, professionally speaking. Today at pilates I even brought it up when asked, something I normally wouldn't delve into in such a relatively superficial setting. How rare to have two offers in this economy, one girl remarked. The instructor was excited for me, and advised to go with my gut.
I think about my life in New York, and how grinding it was. It. Was. Just. Hard. Things kept falling through. Blend that all together with a fledgling economy and a walloping case of self-doubt, and I became someone I knew in my heart I wasn't meant to be. Life just didn't need to be that rough, that antagonistic, that dismal. There had to be another way. Around this time of contemplating a move out of the city, I started to receive really out-of-body promptings that I needed to do a mission. They increased until they preoccupied my every other thought, and the madness of it all drove me to move home and apply.
In Myers-Briggs terms, I classify as an INTJ. The T denotes how I make decisions- in my case Thinking, instead of Feeling. When making decisions, I first look at the logic and consistency of the situation instead of people and special circumstances.
The mission decision was a complete deviation from my usual line of thinking, in that it was one made completely based on feeling. I, of course, applied my logic to the decision, which pointed to NO, but for the first time in my life, feelings were stronger than logic. Indeed it was a special circumstance.
As horrible as the experience turned out to be for me (like 50 times worse than NY), and how confounded I still am about why I needed to be there so badly, I will never deny those feelings I had. They were absolutely real, which makes it all the more infuriating. I think I sound like such a new age idiot.
For two years, I haven't been able to write about the experience, but it has mulled over in my mind every day since. I often worried that by prolonging the wait to write, I would lose details. But you know, I shouldn't have been so stressed out. The information is all in my brain. Everything I have gone through is recorded, it's the recalling of information that is tricky. Woe be our fallible minds and bodies! Luckily, I find that writing serves as catalyst to recall information. '
Anyway, I feel that moving to Los Angeles has been rather seamless, and that I find opportunities with a fraction as much effort, it seems, as I used to exert. I, of course brood over this, albeit much more positively than I used to. What does this mean? I ask myself. Is it reckless to bounce from opportunity to opportunity, or is it exactly where I need to be and what I'm supposed to be doing? To use a pertinent metaphor, however, I'm just going to ride this wave out. I've never let intuition take the reins like this, but surrendering and receiving feels nice. And if good things continue to come from under-analyzing, then so be it!