A few weeks ago I took the ferry across Lake Michigan. Dad and I hopped in the car, drove to the port and traveled in style. We surpassed the hours stuck in traffic and traded in the air conditioned comfort of our car for a few hours at sea (lake).
Only a short while later, we were happily at a michigander’s cabin in the woods. Surrounded by nature on the opposite side of the lake, I fell into a deep sleep that first night with not-so-distant memories of the boat ride.
I had made my way during the journey across to the top deck for about as long as it takes to snap a perfect picture while fighting 40mph winds. But before I made my way back inside, I paused.
Still on the horizon, just barely, was the Milwaukee skyline with a sunset backdrop. It was in this moment I breathed deeply, closed my eyes, and thought, “Everything will be okay.”
You see, lately, I’ve had a bit of a revelation. For months after graduation, you’ve probably heard me blabber about being succumbed into this strange in-between phase. The longer-than-expected season was extremely frustrating to me. I wished I could arrive, be in this place where I had things figured out and was actually normal – whatever that means.
Eventually, I moved out of my childhood home and began a full time job – or as I’ve heard some call these types of activities “growing up”. The more engulfed I was in this world I had tossed onto a pedestal, the more I realized this in-between season isn’t just a season. The feelings of needing to arrive never vanished, they’ve loyally stayed by my side. I haven’t been able to shake the thought that I just don’t fit into some normal mold I thought not only existed but everyone except me was inside.
I’ve learned more than my trusty notebook worth of information at my new job, however, there are certain words that are repeat offenders in my book. We’re all learning. This notion that I have to “arrive” is a big, meaty bologna sandwich.
No one has arrived!
Project managers I believed to be without fault have unfolded their secrets, revealing they, too, feel not good enough some days. Supervisors who create flawless spreadsheets don’t always have the answers. And fellow coworkers also spill coffee on their favorite shirts.
So how had I given myself this never ending to-do list? Why had I been so confident that this in-between season would magically disappear?
Somehow, I found myself with these questions, consistently circling my morning and night. Without a reasonable answer, I was left with hopes I would arrive at this place that didn’t exist, a place I had created for myself.
Now back to the boat and that paused moment in time. I’m on the deck, the wind rushing through me with swift reality checks at each blow.
I realized, I may never “arrive.”
I may never get to that “normal” feeling.
I’ll never have everything figured out.
and with the next gust came the biggest reality check: