There is no fear
in taking the first step
or the second
or the third
—The Blue Stairs by Barbara Guest

So final placements have finished, and I’ve had a week to digest the fact that I will not be leaving New Jersey in the immediate future. It’s mixed emotions, since I wound up taking a position I hadn’t even initially considered which offers benefits I didn’t even know where possible (international travel) which will, I hope, counterbalance some of the challenges that had initially made me look past the position in the first place (operations is non-stop high-demand work).

But, you never know, this could be my diamond in the rough. One thing is for sure, I’ll be kept busy and learn a LOT about time-management. I’m glad I’ll have the next couple of months to figure out what is really important, so I make sure to keep those people and things priority as my schedule changes.

Hopefully this means more travel too, since I’ll have those business trips… ;)

It feels like these vignettes about 9/11, a truly pivotal time for those of us growing up in the “tri-state area,” that I couldn’t read in September, had been waiting for this day in November to remind me about the bigger issue of life. It’s maudlin, I know, and looking for connections where there are none. But somehow it seems that all these remembrances of an unexpected death are to remind me that regardless of what final placement I take (or am offered), it’ll only be one step in a long journey. Life is a marathon, not a sprint, and I’m not even sure if they’ve finished mapping out the route.

It seems the route has changed, and all this time I’ve been aiming at a moving target. A month ago, even a week ago, I thought I had my “career” figured out. But now it seems that vision I have of what I could be is just one possibility, and maybe that future-me isn’t meant to be an actual-me quite yet. It’s that unexpected twist in the plot, delaying the obvious conclusion but allowing further character development. It’s not yet time for me to settle into something I’d excel at. I’ve still got to push stretch myself and attempt a few more poses before dropping into final relaxation. I can sink even deeper and explore more aspects of my current industry before easting myself into another world altogether—albeit one that I’ve explored before.

These 9/11 stories all talk about the radical shift in worldview after the planes struck and laughing beloveds suddenly became empty graves that were never filled. And, in a sense, it feels like that’s what I’m going through. I thought I was going to step back onto a path I’d long pictured myself going down, but now I’m not so sure. There was no placement that stood out as THE ONE, even though some are perfectly poised to take me down that intended path. And the one that sounds the best is completely opposite in direction. However, regardless of which direction I go, I can travel safely in the knowledge that it’ll take me from A to B and life will keep going.

"Most knitting patterns call for yarn, needles, and familiarity with abbreviations such as CO, K2tog, and St st. Typical patterns might even ask you to keep track of alternating colors on a grid. The Conceptual Knitting patterns you'll find here are creatures of an entirely different sort. ... These surprising patterns will inspire you to look out your window, ride the subway and converse with your next-door neighbor. ... In order to knit these unique one-of-a-kind garments, you'll be sent out into the world - and deep within your heart - turning something as simple as a scarf into an unexpectedly storied object."

But it's a transitional time too as I start the process to interview for final placement, with a thousand possible paths all waiting for that official offer email on November 29, or 30. The goal is to go from the initial 27 position offerings to a more manageable and interview-able number, let's say 5-7.

Right now, however, there are far too many things I could see myself doing, not the least of which is knitting until my little hands cramp as I meditate on which routes I should try. It's still that initial euphoric stage of position selecting when every roads seems intriguing and the horizon stretches endlessly.

It turns out, friends, that if you know you’ve got a lot of thinking to do, you should probably do it. Putting it off is just putting it off, not finishing it. I’m still holding onto some of the stuff that I wasn’t using, but wasn’t ready to part with: case in point, this blog thing that never seemed to go anywhere as the pictures took forever and I was just rambling and I tried so hard to give it a point, but I’m not sure we ever got one.

Or maybe it had a point, but it was too narrow to give it a story. The most compelling reads are ones with narrative and heart, especially the latter. In my insistence on “doing this right” and focusing my blog, but not allowing myself to think too hard on what stuff “means,” my adventures are just an endless array of pretty pictures—and let’s be honest, there is a reason the photographers at National Geographic work for that publication and I do not.

It turns out the real journey I’ve been on, as hokey as it sounds, has been one for a direction. I’ve gone far from home, and always with a covetous eye going “could I live here?” “Is this the place for me?” But it’s not a question I can answer without knowing what my priorities are, and it’s not the idle speculation that any traveler has in a new place either: it’s a frustrating pining of hopes on the endless possibilities of the new because, hey, you never know, this could be it, whatever “it” is.

Well, friends, I think it’s time to figure out what “it” is. Not completely, mind you, because there is value in vagueness, but there are certain non-negotiable characteristics of “it” that I need to figure out, automatic criteria that’ll allow me to go “yes, this should go on the short-list of possible homes” or “nah, it’s just an awesome place to visit so soak it all in and remember it fondly.” Because there’s nothing wrong with turning the navel-gazing off and doing some vista-gazing instead.

So what does this mean for the blog? It means we’re going to give this one more try, because this is a good and productive commitment, because it will force me to travel more consciously, both of where I go and also the experiences I have there, and because one of the things my navel-gazing has concluded is that I miss writing. And I could never write without an audience, as silly and shallow as that sounds.

But I can’t expect you to wait on for posts when I write roughly at the speed of toddler just learning to crawl. I’ve figured out how to post from links from my Google Reader account here, so that in between my rambling you can receive some travel-related thoughts and advice from people far wiser and far more talented than me.

That and I changed the layout, because I am a Leo after all. ;)