Unwanted

    

    It's hard to concentrate on anything when you can't stop thinking about how unwanted you feel. I emphasize FEEL because I know there are people in my life who want me in it; but that doesn't change the feeling of being unwanted by the things you are pursuing. It also doesn't mean I'm dissatisfied with the people and activities that do appreciate me. I'm just processing the rejection I feel when something I want doesn't pursue me with the same vigor. Feel unwanted makes me spiral into this tornado of self-deprecating thoughts and disappointments in my own personal development. Why did I choose this path professionally, this hobby I'm no good at, this major, or develop the wrong talents? Why didn't I choose something else that is more rewarding, respected, or relevant? I don't know. 

    Maybe this life chose me, and it wouldn't have mattered one way or another. Like Oedipus fulfilled the destiny he was bound to commit, perhaps I was also bound to this fate. I could try to do go the opposite direction, but I'm afraid some behemoth will come out of the depths of the sea and spit me out as it did Jonah on the shores of Ninevah, where he was supposed to be. In a way, I envy Jonah's clear direction. He was told to go to a specific place and complete a specific task. Even though it was a potentially life-threatening endeavor, it was clear and concise. 

    The lack of clear direction is what disorients me. A few months ago, I thought my life was changing directions professionally. The omens were all pointing in one direction and the doors were opening as I approached them. Imagine a lost boy being led by a will-o-the-wisp through the deep dark forest to a paved path. The path leads to a small cozy shed. The door opens, he goes in, and the wisp vanishes. The room is cozy and comfortable, and he begins to arrange the furniture to his liking. There is a knock at the door, where someone left a basket of food. Everything is looking good until the weather changes, and the lost boy realizes the walls are not insulated and the roof leaks.

    He doesn't know how to fix the roof and winter is slowly coming so he needs to make plans to leave the house soon. There is another knock at the door. Someone left a horse and cart loaded with supplies. The boy thinks this will be helpful when the winter comes. A few days later, as he's tending to the horse, a postman delivers a letter informing him that the little cottage will be demolished in 3...2...1...BOOM! He has no time to pack, a giant troll in a hard hat is tearing off the roof. 

    The boy gets in his cart and horse, thankful that the horse and cart came in time for him to have provision for the winter. Where will he go now? Along the way, he realizes the horse is sick and the cart is falling apart. It may not last until winter and the next time is miles away. The boy has to stop and repair the cart often, costing him precious time to make it to shelter before winter. It's getting colder. Out in the middle of nowhere, there is a tall obelisk with a door. He goes in and finds a winding staircase twirling up to the pinnacle. At every landing there is a door. The boy jiggles the handle hoping to find a room to stay but the doors are locked. He tries to knock, but no one opens. He can hear voices on the other side of the door, but they won't let him in. "Go away!" Out of desperation, he is running up the stairs and trying every knob carelessly. It is getting colder, and provisions are fading quickly. Eventually the horse will expire, and the cart will be irreparable.

    I feel like that boy. I'm trying every knob, and the doors won't budge. The will-o-the-wisp has led me out of the wilderness into an open field with no paved road to travel and no town on the horizon. But there is always hope. The will-o-the-wisp shows up when I'm completely lost. So, I probably need to get a little more lost until it finds me. Then we can begin our adventure towards destiny. I'm excited to get there when I do, but I know it will be temporary. 

    I didn't mean for this to turn into a story, but it helped me process some things. The good thing is I'm not alone. Although it may feel like it sometimes, I have a great support system who is with me along the way. I get to do a lot of writing when I'm lost in the wilderness anyway, so I'm grateful for that. Thank you for listening. I have a lot of ideas to write but I'm still a little clogged up. I've got to finish some things before I can get back to the short story I'm writing.