Seven years I spent, feeling like a fish out of water, like I wanted to crawl out of my own skin, the men-lizards looking at me with their cold, dead, calculating eyes. Seven years.
It was a blessing to be set free. Even when it was hard, even when we were scraping. It was a sweet, sweet blessing.
This is not to say that there were no people of my own there, but they were a distant minority - often moving along to elsewhere, or being worn down by the same battles I was fighting. It's an exhausting way to live.
A year of sweet blessings, and now I have a day job again. An office job. And it is nothing like those seven years. The team plays board games every Thursday at 4. We have the most diverse team I have ever had the pleasure of being a part of -- and each of them is a sweet, kind, delight. Once again, I am asked to do the needful. An archaic turn of phrase from the British, long gone from their linguistic inclinations, but lives on in India. We go get lunch, or when it's hot, we find a shaded outdoor location and sip boba tea.
Our project is something people are excited about, the biggest curmudgeon concedes, "yes, this basically hits the mark of what I expect it to be able to do" making his boss ecstatic because H "is a badass and delights in picking everything to shreds."
Though some discomfort remains -- I'm a perfectionist, and there is so much that needs to be done, and done right, and so much institutional knowledge wrapped up in people who desperately need to delegate... And I want to do it all. And it takes time. It's this discomfort that pushes me to do what I do so well though - create order and structure from chaos. It's why they hired me in the first place. Despite the discomfort of wanting to have it all organized and running the way I'd like to see it running, I am comfortable in my skin.
It is good. It feels like I have landed again, for now.
So much to remain curious about, so much to sort and organize. It is good.
With love and curiosity,
PS -- I still have some of these lovely bookplates available, if you know a graduate or a father who needs to note their favorite books!