Unemployed.

4 lessons from a period of non-work

This year has been a year of "redirection," a year I decided I would stop taking short-term contracts in areas I liked to try and pursue a vocation I love. Anxiety, fear, and low self-esteem promptly ensued. But I have stayed at it, and I feel like I'm actually learning some things. 

Here are 4 of my big lessons this year.

1. We are incredibly loved and supported.

Over the last year, we have struggled financially. Taking time away from work because E was born, and then taking time away from work because of my decision to redirect my career have taken a toll on our budget and bank account. And yet we are making it. Last year, in a particularly strained month, our good friends casually gave us an envelope with $400 in it. This past week, in the aftermath of our home invasion, friends and family have graciously and unceremoniously given and sent us money to help cover the losses. We have also received incredible words of comfort and encouragement and have felt our entire community lift us up in prayer and support. As I have struggled to find my way in a new career path, our supporters have been patient and they and our wider community have loved me so well through all my uncertainty, impatience, and tears. Like never before have I felt the beauty and comfort of my village.

I hope I do not take it for granted.

2. We are incredibly privileged.

Even though we have struggled financially, we know for a fact that we will be ok eventually. We will make money eventually. We are taking money from our line of credit this month to buy a car, confident that we will pay it back pretty soon. We are both well educated, we have a vast safety net (as evidenced above!), we buy international health insurance, and we have a privileged notion that hard times are temporary. And it is clear as day that this is not how the majority of the world lives. And so, even though we’re in a “dry” patch right now, we are still stewards of our income and possessions, and ever humbled by the privilege we have luckily inherited.

I hope I use my privilege to build up others.

3. Taking time away from work really does give you room to think.

The idea I had at the beginning of the year of what type of work I would pursue is a little different from what I am gravitating towards and pursuing now. And that evolution happened because I actually took time away from working. I made the decision to not take any contract that came my way, but to be “picky” and, as of August, only apply for full-time work. As much as this caused me anxiety, it also gave me room to think, network, and ask myself (and others) the tough questions about how I want to engage in the development sector. And the answers have led me in a different direction than I was expecting but am now incredibly excited about.

I hope I can remain reflective as the process continues.

4. My worth is not in my work.

Yes, I am guilty of placing far too much of my self-worth in the job I have and my professional/academic achievements. I have been to some dark places this year where I have felt like I was drifting because I wasn’t employed and didn’t know when I would be (I’m still there, but not feeling so dark). Meanwhile, Charlie got an amazing promotion and is feeling more fulfilled than ever in his career. I am so proud of him and my heart is so full seeing him so passionate. Although I’m not jealous, it was a stark contrast to my seemingly aimless professional period. And then my Mom reminded me that we are not in Cambodia just “to work” and that work is not who I am. This year I got to spend tons of time with my kids, went on play dates and coffee dates with friends, and I got to know a beautiful and supportive community of stay-at-home moms. I also have a lot of friends who are figuring out their own career paths, and I have felt a deep sense of purpose when chatting with them about similar issues we are wrestling with.

I hope I can hold true to a deeper sense of purpose when I become employed.

Have you ever felt adrift in your professional life? How do you balance your sense of self when it  comes to "work/life balance"? Any tools or resources to share in this areas?

Ode to a BFF

I sat on my four-year-old's bed yesterday while she pounded her fists into the mattress and her own legs, her tiny but powerful voice angrily seething, "It's not fair! It's not fair! It's not fair" over and over again. I remember feeling that way as a kid: so angry and frustrated that you feel like it's going to explode out of you and words just aren't enough.

She wasn't having a tantrum. She wasn't being a brat. She was trying to work through the utter heartbreak of her best friend moving back to Canada from Cambodia. They met when she was 2 and a half and now she's 4 and a half and she can't remember when they weren't best friends. I remember. Because this isn't the first time she's been torn away from her friends.

When I was 12 years old, my lifelong best friend moved to California. It was awful. We spent every waking moment together for the 2 weeks before they left. It was an important event in my young life. Our 4-year-old daughter has now gone through that 3 times. The first time she was just 2 and didn't really understand what was going on, kept asking where her friend was. The second time was when we were coming back to Cambodia after a 6-month home leave and she was very sad to leave behind our close friends' daughter who we had spent a lot of time with that winter. This time it feels different. This time she's not a toddler, but a little girl who is starting to truly understand the distance, time, and "apart-ness" of living on the other side of the world. And she's angry about it.

I'm starting to understand the burden of responsibility for the impact of our decision to live overseas on our children's lives. We chose to do life in Cambodia. We chose to live far away from our family. We chose to live in a transient community where goodbye parties are our most frequent event. They didn't chose this, we chose it for them. We believe in the blessings, advantages, and opportunities this will give them, both now and later in life, but today, having said goodbye to both one of my best friends and my child's best friend, I understand her anger about these decisions.

So I sat on her bed yesterday and I pounded my fists into the mattress beside her, and I said, "I'm angry, too" and I affirmed her frustrations and grief and sadness. And I pray that that affirmation will be what she remembers, not just the anger and sadness at losing another friend, but that those feelings are valid and real. And that she won't bury the feelings and herself, but will keep expressing herself and opening herself up to other friends and people who come in and out of our lives. Because my 4-year-old is a great friend! She throws herself into friendship and loves wholeheartedly and passionately. And I never want her to lose that part of herself. 

3 Things that Scare me About Taking a Leap of Faith

It's time. Time for a leap faith.

After dedicating much of my work time over the past few years to Chab Dai projects, I've decided, after a lot of prayer, discernment, conversations with mentors, family, and friends, tears, dreaming, and anxiety...

I have stepped away from contractual work with Chab Dai and am working on building up my skills and experience to work in something I feel a strong passion and calling for. It's hard to know what to call it, because it could take many forms, but basically I am pursuing my calling in economic empowerment. Whether that is community economic development, social enterprise, economic resilience and reintegration programming, or research and model testing, I'm not sure. I'm open to all of it! 

A few weeks in, and I am pretty evenly split between utter excitement and talking myself out of a panic attack. Because it's scary. I'm scared. And this is what scares me most:

1. Financial uncertainty: after writing a research report on the subject, I self-diagnosed: Hello, my name is Julia, and I suffer from financial anxiety. Making the decision this year that I won't take work unless it is in the economic development and research realm has meant we're living really tight. And that's OK (that's Charlie talking). We're able to cover our basic expenses every month. And of course that leads me to feel incredibly guilty that I even feel anxious because we live in a country where many people can't say that. But there you have it: I worry about eeking it out every month.

2. What if I'm not good? What if up until now I've taken the easy road and excelled because I wasn't pushing myself and now that I go after what I really truly want to do, I fall flat? What if I'm all talk and can't deliver? What if I'm a fraud? No matter how much someone (*ahem*Charlie*) can tell me logically why I'm ready for this, that little voice is there, telling me I'm not.

3. What if I can't actually balance work/parent life? Since S was born, I've worked, quite a lot, but never in a full-time, 9:00-5:00 job. I've been able to make my own schedule, which worked great, because I wanted to have the flexibility to take a morning here or a day there to be with my babies. I think I'm ready for full-time work, but I haven't tried it yet, so what if it doesn't work? 

So that's it. My three biggest fears this year. Welcome to my panic attack.

Here's my antidote to fear and anxiety: prayer. I'm 100% serious. When I feel the fear creeping in, the anxiety taking over, I try to sit down and meditate, focus on communing with God, and most often it calms my spirit. It doesn't mean the fear and anxiety go away forever, but sometimes it's just enough to get me through the day. And not only does it calm the anxiety, but I often end meditating being reminded of the excited part of this journey. I'm going after my dream! I'm following a calling! I live in Cambodia and it's pretty awesome!

And I think, "See you later, fear and anxiety!" (And I do.)