New Pencils, New Starts

 It is a commonly held principle that new school supplies are one of life's great joys. There's something wonderful about crisp, blank notebooks and unscuffed folders that signify fresh and new chances. You can start over. You can begin again.

I am coming out of a hard couple of years. I wanted to come out of this time with more purpose - a sense of knowing where I was going. For years I have muddled about in my career hating my job and wanting something new. In my school metaphor I could see all the new supplies waiting for me but where was the desk? And what was the job? Those answers remain hauntingly unattainable.

In high school, I had a plan - college, law school, attorney, prosecutor, Washington D.C., court clerkship, judgeship, Supreme Court. I was a gal with vision. But it turns out no matter how bad I wanted that career path, the career path did not want me.

I can think of a million jobs that I can do, but I don't really want to do them. The thought of starting a new career at a new place and meeting new people feels exhausting and overwhelming. And the truth is when I lie awake at night wondering how I have become this floundering, dithering person, the only thought that comes back to me is, "You should write." At night the stories come fast and clear. Sometimes I have to get up and hide in my closet so as not to wake anyone else just to write ideas down. When the morning comes, though, I can't find much time for writing. And, anyways, how can I make a living doing it? All the brilliance of the night before fades and I am left with the harsh thought that my midnight ideas are pretty dumb.

There I am floundering again. 

In the spirit of crisp, blank notebooks and unscuffed folders, I am giving myself this chance to begin again. Maybe my midnight visions are right or maybe my morning hangover is more correct. What I am hoping is that by taking this chance it will stop the floundering for a little bit. 

I guess like any new start, only time will tell. And while I do love a crisp, blank notebook, I also love the messy, ripped up and torn apart notebook at the end of the school year. The one with all that work and growth to show. I could never be mad at turning a new start into that kind of wonderful mess.