Running naked in the rain

I was speaking to someone today who reminded me that I once said something along the lines of 'If I could only lose this job, I would ____.' She reminded me of all the things I had talked about, all the possibilities, all the things I am now free to pursue. It all came rushing back at that moment, the rush of giddy excitement I first felt when called into the Firing Room. I'm free.

Heady stuff. And not something that I'm really ready to explore. Not yet. I've still got some rather toxic mental sludge left over from this job that I've got to slough off. There's a part of me that keeps thinking (foolishly) that I'm merely on vacation, I'll wind up back in that breezy, ancient house again, sitting at that desk, slogging through endless emails. A part of me that, when asked what do you do, wants to reply with '[insert job title here], at [insert former place of employment here],' instead of 'nothing at the moment.'

It was suggested that I might want to meet with some of my former co-workers--both those who won the Pink Slip Lotto and those who lost it--in order to speed the processing of the situation. This feels like it might be a good idea. Maybe if I get to see those people outside the confines of the fishbowl in which we worked, I can get better at seeing myself as someone who doesn't work there, who works nowhere at the moment, who is simply Citizen Me.

I liked my coworkers. Even the ones who made me want to throw shoes at their heads (perhaps particularly the ones who aggravated me to such levels). Maybe if I get used to seeing humans as people I know as opposed to people I work with/people I don't, maybe I can clear out a little of the sludge.

And then, once the sludge is either removed or contained (and the edges of the spill marked for caution), I can decide what to do with my liberty. Perhaps I can even come to terms with what I love, what I most enjoy. Right now, I'm attempting something new; I'm following my heart wherever it leads. For someone like me, who has always been led by her head, it's a strange, new path. Right now, my heart says Wait. See what will come. Taste lightly, touch softly, enjoy greatly and wait. All will be made clear in time.

It's an exercise in both patience and profound trust with/in myself, and those are two things I've never really excelled at. Eh. New year, new way of being. I will try this trusting thing. It's not like the other way really ever got me anywhere.

Who knows? I might be pleasantly surprised. Wherever I end up.