Dear Internal Crisis: Eat my dust.

Notice anything different?

Here's a clue

I've been feeling very dramatic lately, and decided I would allow The Blog to reflect my recent brooding.

I'm sure you're asking yourselves, what could a privileged, educated, and employed woman possibly brood about?

In short, I've been brooding about my life.  I believe the term is "quarter-life crisis," and I've diagnosed myself based on the following symptoms:

* Uncertain and wary of my own future,
* Feeling lost and unsure of what I want,
* Frustration that life has not turned out to be a bowl of cherries.

I also did some light perusing of the internet, and came across this article on the subject, and the last line certainly seems to ring true:

The researchers say that idealists who also want to achieve conventional success—marriage, children, corner office—seem to be the population most affected.

I would agree that I'm part of that popluation who'd like to leave the world a bit better and still enjoy being a part of human society, except replace "marriage, children, corner office" with "health insurance, acreage, and boyfriend willing to put up with me."

I don't suffer from dull routine, nor am I plagued by questions of career choice or what my passion is. I know all that already. I work as a naturalist and I write a blog about my time spent in nature, I'm pretty sure I've got my passion figured out.

But friends, there is a mighty big difference between knowing what you want to do, and being able to actually do it.

So what has happened to this idealist? A cold, hard, steel punch to the gut from reality.

Truth: I love my job. No joke. I live in one of the Most Beautiful Places I've Ever Seen, within walking distance of the upper Mississippi, surrounded by wooded bluffs that are noisy with the sounds of the wild. I wear a hat like Smokey the Bear and convince kids that basswood fibers would've been just as soft as the clothes they're wearing, and I have the tree cross-section (aka tree cookie) to prove it. I love the people I work with and I learn from them everyday. I love my family here, and wouldn't trade any of them for the world.

Truth: It will be nearly impossible to stay here.

That, dear friends, is a bitter pill to swallow, and I've spent the past week or so with it stuck in my throat. The first blow came with being told a simple observation: When I first worked at the monument, all those years ago, the number of employees hovered around 50. Today, it hovers around twenty. Realization of the significance of that number came like poison ivy, delayed and painful. There are no permanent Interp positions at the monument, save for the Chief's, and it is unlikely there ever will be. My season can be extended and stretched, the last hours rationed over a pay period or two, but by November or December, the sand will have run out and will stay empty until the hourglass is tipped over again next summer. And the story will be repeated into infinity. No health benefits, no yearly salary, and that means no bank in their right mind would back my venture into country-livin'.

There it is. The idealist thought she had worked it out, a meaningful career in a beautiful part of the world. But the "conventional success" proves elusive still. Yes, I would like to have my cake and eat it, too.

Preferably one that tastes as good as this one looks

Traditional QLCs arise from an internal source, a displeasure deep within one's mind and body. Mine arises from an external source, the reality of the economic times we live in. Nevertheless, we all converge into the same type of distress as we are faced with the same terrifying question:

What do I do?

That question is not one I've fully answered yet.  But here's what I've come up with so far:

Enjoy the hell out of it.

Of all the advice I've collected and gleaned from others, this seems to be the most common sentiment.  I've been told to "just ride it out," and to "be glad you're facing this now,"  and that I should "take the time to really reflect on what I want from life," because I wouldn't be feeling this way if there wasn't something missing.

Rather than sink into a depression going round and round with worries and fears, I've decided to find out exactly what the missing puzzle piece is, or at least what colors are on it or what shape it's in.  Because my "true passion" has been called into question, I'll be hitting the highways and byways near and far to re-evaluate everything I thought I knew about myself.  From career, to family, to lifestyle, to what I want out of the next ten years, and any miscellaneous insights I collect along the way.

First stop to be posted soon.  Until then, just hit this link.