Most of us view God like He’s our personal drill sergeant. Now, initially you might think that sounds a bit too harsh or not quite right, but how often do you hear your friends or yourself saying things like, “God please just tell me where I should go, what is your will in this situation? I’ll follow you wherever you lead me.”

Sounds like a good christian prayer right?  I’ve heard people say things like this more times than I can count. But when you think about what is really being asked we are saying, “God just give me orders, and I will do exactly what you say.“  I.E., we want to be passive participants in our lives, (”Jesus take the wheel”  …thank you Carrie Underwood) and let God do the ordering and thinking. I can’t help but think that methodology is bit off. Or if it was the right approach, I would understand why so many people think religion is a crutch.

But what if God is more like what the bible depicts, what if he is a Father? What if it played out a bit more like this, “Hey Dad, I thinking about going to college to majoring in film and trying to make it in the movie industry. What are your thoughts? Do you think that’s my strength, or should I try something else?‘”

How many of us got to college and called our dads and asked, “Hey dad, should I go to class today? I just want to do what you think I should, so please tell me what to do today.“

Could it be that if God is more like a father, that it makes sense that he gives us choices? So instead of simply saying, “You will go to this college, take these courses, major in this study and become this professional…” I’m beginning to believe that I’m a bit more involved. Maybe God has given us all kinds of strengths and as long as we say within those, we’re in his will.

So, maybe for someone that means they could be a teacher, or a lawyer, or an architect because all of those professions use part of that person’s strengths. And maybe God didn’t whisper in that person’s ear which one to choose.

The notion that I’m an active, responsible participant in my life turns that “lead me I will follow” methodology on it’s head.  Suddenly life is much more exciting, and yes most definitely a whole new level of scary. Making choices, telling God what I want, going after dreams and not expecting God to miraculously land it on my door with a heavenly bow…that’s a life that is bigger, riskier, and more adventurous than God simply bumper bowling me through the choices. And frankly it sounds more like a life crafted by a God I want to spend time with.

As some of you know, I’m coming up on the midst of some really cool life changes. I have options, which are really fun and make me feel like I’m wearing my big-girl pants. But they’re very different. I almost feel like it’s a Choose Your Own Adventure novel. Or, like I told my own dad, “Dad, I feel like God has taken me down the toy aisle and said, ‘You can have roller skates, barbie dolls or a bike, it’s your choice.”

Uhh. Those are all really killer toys. And they are all very different. And all of them end well. Unless, I ask for the barbies and in the midst of playing wedding with Ken, her head pops off…that could be not so fun.

Part of me really hates that God doesn’t lean down and tell me, “Go with the bike. You can go off really cool jumps with it, and it’s the most fun toy out there.” Instead He is standing back and letting me choose. And if I’m being honest, there’s a part in my stomach that feels like I’m about to throw up. This is an instance where I wish Carrie was right, and I could simply say, “Jesus take the wheel!” But I know it doesn’t work like that.

So what do I do? What do we do when we’re faced with big choices, and there is no God to write the answers on the wall? I’m not quite sure, but if you do, I’d like it if you could tell me please.

In a flight of curiosity, I typed each letter into dictionary.com. F-R-U-S-T-R-A-T-E-D. As I read the responding entry, I couldn’t help but feel the pit in my stomach growing larger and larger with each line.

frus⋅trate:

[fruhs-treyt] -trat⋅ed, -trat⋅ing, adjective –verb (used with object)

1. to make (plans, efforts, etc.) worthless or of no avail; defeat, nullify

2. disappointed

3. having feelings of  or filled with frustration; dissatisfied

thwart:

–verb (used with object)

1. to oppose successfully; prevent

2. to baffle ( a plan or purpose).

From a 10,00 foot level the specifics that have been causing my frustration are a moot point; I think I’m in a season where life isn’t coming easily. I push and try, and my plans are worthless and to no avail. I have decided to not try, and I am still disappointed and successfully opposed.

Things don’t turn out the way that I want them to be. My professional life just hasn’t come together in the way that it should. There are moments where I look at my family and say, “I never asked for this God. This is not what I wanted.” There are even places in the writing when I feel like it’s a silly pursuit and easily thwarted.

The frustrations come and go in waves. There are days like yesterday when the frustration gets to me and makes me furiously angry.  My prayers sound much like, “God where are you? Have you left me to fend for myself? Do you even care? They call you the God who provides, but to me that is just hearsay.”

Then there are days where I feel at peace even though the tension is still there. On those days the prayers sound more like this, “God I know you are there. I don’t  feel you or see you, but they say you provide, so I am going to sit knowing that you are bigger than my frustrations.”

The feeling of frustration never leaves, it’s just that some days bothers me a lot more than others.

I imagine that this flux between being frustrated and ok  is just what life is like. School doesn’t work the way it should, there’s surprise classes that you didn’t know that you were missing right before graduation, there are cars that breakdown when you are late, there are husbands that pick fights with you when you don’t have a shred of patience to give.  At least thinking these things happen to other people makes me feel like God isn’t singling me out. Like he isn’t starving me of my plans or progress simply because He’s mean or wants to teach me some sort of lesson.  I hate it when people tell you that.

I was having this conversation with HNB last night, where he says to me, “Jenni, I don’t know why these things haven’t settled. Maybe God wants to make you learn something.” The problem that I have with this idea is that it makes God seem like the parent that starves their child so that they can learn to appreciate vegetables. Not feeding a child, and simply giving them snacks for several months might keep them alive, but I certainly don’t feel like it’s loving. And if God is not loving, then I don’t know that I want to do this anymore. “Thanks God, I really wish we could have stayed friends. But I can’t continue to trust someone who is so mean sometimes. Frustrating people isn’t nice. Friends just don’t do that for no reason.“

Pragmatism and Dreams.

The other theme that has been coming up this week is the idea of dreams. Unmet dreams. Impossible dreams. Dreams that burn your insides. Dreams that you look at and say, “Yeah, that would never happen.“

See, the problem is that I am a true pragmatist. When someone gives me an idea or dream my knee jerk reaction is to say, “yeah, but HOW?” I want to know how much money it’s going to take, and where is that going to come from, how much time do we need, and how many people do we need to get on board. What are the areas of expertise and how do I get those people on my team. I want to chart it, plan it, schedule it, budget it, and put it on a spreadsheet.

VS.

The problem is, this mentality takes dreams and literally smashes them at the kneecaps.

I have recently been awakened to the notion that I do not know how to dream big. I drown myself in questions. Instead of letting myself have big ideas, grandiose dreams, and  fantastic speculations I crush them upon  conception. Dreams are something that need to have a impregnation, an attachment, a nurturing, and a birthing. I discovered that I have a knack for stifling the process.  I question and rationalize and scrutinize them to death. It’s as if I implement a process of harsh criticism that results in spontaneous miscarriages.

I have been realizing that in doing this I don’t let myself to be free. I complicate the process.  It is just like running or dancing.  I am not free to run when I let the technicalities of physics and movement take over. There is no leaping, falling, jumping, bounding, or flinging when there are meticulous calculations.

Part of me is convinced that I have simply been so frustrated with the plans I have that have continually gone unmet, that I have forgotten how to dream. Dreaming takes an element of trust and vulnerability. In some ways I think my heart has become a bit hardened to dreaming. It almost feels like a waste of time. I hate to say that out loud because it makes me jaded, but part of me thinks that it might be true.

Frustration is a heartbreaking emotion. It is angry and hurt. And it is tired. Its hard to convince yourself to dream, and run, and breathe, and be risky when you are heartbroken and hurting.

So, my question is, “How do we start?” How do we leave the land of overwhelming questions  and find our way to the land of frivolous dreaming?  How do we stop planning? How do we hold frustration in one hand and hopefulness in the other? Do we have to re-learn how to dream? Is it even  possible to dream when you are this disappointing and frustrated? How do we look at your friends who are being catapulted forward in the same areas that frustrate you, but still know that God is a provider even when it doesn’t feel like it?

Ive decided that for me it is going to start like this with one simple statement:

“God, I am so frustrated by unmet passions that I have forgotten how to dream. Help me to dream. Show me what it is to dream wildly, and not to worry about if they’ll happen or not. Let me dream. ”

Im still wildly frustrated. I still have loads of unmet needs. But this is the only way I know how to get out of the corner Ive somehow been painted into.

Earlier this week I was looking through the file for some places to go with this next post. I pulled out a scrap of napkin that had blue ink scribbled front and back.

This napkin spelled out sudden clarity about my plans vs. Gods plans. In that moment, I clearly was understanding that:
1) I don’t always know best.
2) Sometimes uncomfortable change is good.
3) If you demand life only on your own terms, often times you will miss the point
4) God’s master plan in this whole life is to be an epic storyteller.

Not A Know-It-All
It shouldn’t come as a surprise that we don’t always know everything. The idea that you will always understand everything, and that you are never wrong is one of those thoughts that if you say it out loud, you sound selfish, conceited, delusional, etc, etc. HOWEVER, that doesn’t stop the deepest parts of us from trying to control it all anyway. We make calculations, speculations, collaborations, and even manipulations to try to make things go the way we think is right. Why do we do it? None of us really know – or I’m sure the answer is too philosophical to easily explain. But anytime you get a good dose of reality and realize that you don’t always know everything, and cannot control everything – it’s still a kick in the pants.

I’m Fine with Change, as Long as it Doesn’t Mess Up My Routine

I’ve said this before, but there is tiny Suzy-Home-Maker and a tiny Gypsy that live in my soul. And they are constantly at war. What I want for my life really depends who is winning the war at that moment in time.

The Gypsy wants to get tattoos, work at a bar, pursue writing and creativity, wear flowing skirts, travel the world, and loves constant change. The Home-Maker doesn’t love change. She realizes that moving might seem like a fun idea, but she hates unpacking boxes after a move. Tattoos seem hip and trendy, but corporate jobs don’t always want to line you up for a promotion if you have artwork from your neck to your knees.  Moving  overseas sounds great and adventurous, but often asks the more practical questions (what are we going to do for money, and what are you going to do when you come home?)

However, there are moments when the Gypsy is right. Where drastic change happens, the Gypsy rejoices and the Home-Maker throws a fit. It is uncomfortable, painful, and usually involves getting dirty in some physical or metaphorical kind of way. But if given enough time and perspective, and the Home-Maker is usually calling a truce and telling the Gypsy her favorite words “You are right, that change was much needed.”

Don’t Miss the Point!

When I lived in Thailand, I remember waking up one morning in a panic. I had a vivid dream, where one of my childhood friends was getting married. In preparations for her wedding, I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off, getting flowers, arranging people, coordinating the speakers and microphones, making sure the other bridesmaids were ready… In the midst of my planning panic, my friend came to me dressed in her wedding gown. I was covered in dirt and sweaty from the day’s work. She said, “Jenni, we’re ready to start. Why aren’t you dressed?” It was clear by the look on her face that my job for that day (as her maid of honor), was just to be ready with her. To be dressed, and excited, and prepared to accompany her down the aisle. And even though everything I was doing was good things, when it came down to it, I had missed the point of my job as her bridesmaid.

I walked around the rest of that week with these words burned into my mind, “Don’t be so busy that you miss the entire point…don’t miss it Jenni, don’t miss it.”

It was a wake-up call and a reminder that even though I had 100 students, and more than a million things to do, that wasn’t the entire reason I was there. I needed to love my kids. I needed to laugh with them, and play with them, and hug them and love them. That was the lasting part that would remain far after I was gone – not the fact that we implemented a health check system into the daily pre-school curriculum.

Even though I have been home now for a few years, I find that dream resounds true in so many other areas. If you demand life on your own terms, you miss the point. If you plan everything to death, you miss out. If you don’t learn to let go, relax, open your eyes and see the beauty in your current chaos, you could lose the most beautiful gifts that right under your nose.

The Epic Story Teller.

Last week after receiving an email from a prospective job opportunity indicating that they were going with someone else, I had a brand new thought when it came to my job search – “Is there something wrong with me?” Upon thinking this I knew I was breaking the carnal rule of job searching – it is NEVER personal. Jobs and business are all about matching my skills and experience with a company in order to maximize profitability and efficiency. It’s never about my identity as a person. But I went there, and I knew I was down a headlong rabbit hole that might be hard to get out of. Almost a week and a half later, I know that those thoughts don’t necessarily ring true, but I’m still struggling to get out.

I realize I have stopped hoping. I have begun to think that maybe there is something wrong with me. That maybe I will never get a job. That maybe I’m not cut out for my calling in life (Is that not the most morbidly depressing thought you’ve ever heard!?)

In a way, I’m angry with God. “God, why hasn’t this happened yet? Why do I keep praying and going on all of these interviews, and yet I’m still without work? How come you haven’t made something work out yet? This isn’t the way that I want it!”

And here is where my own past-thoughts come to kick me in the ass. Napkin thoughts are spelling it out for me that God is an Epic storyteller. Think Lord of the Rings plot line vs. Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen take on San Francisco (straight to DVD).

And there is good news with God’s epic story. We know how it ends: God wins. And we are on his team. So…why is it that my current state seems so devastating? Oh right, because that is happening right now, and we don’t know what happens next.

But in the face of all of this, I know I have to hold onto the words on my napkin. That maybe God is doing more than what I am seeing right now with my eyes. That maybe these six months is going to be very important to me when I look back in a few years from now. That I still get an opportunity to be involved with something epic and majestic, even if it doesn’t look or sound like it at the moment. That yes, even though I still can’t say it with conviction,  I will get a job that I love. Yes, I am talented and some employer will be lucky to have me.

And yes, things will be uncomfortable along the way. We will lose jobs, go broke, get in car accidents, have children with diseases, have our parents die, and possibly get divorces. That’s just life. That part doesn’t change. That’s part of the epic storyline.

But I’m convinced the ending is majestic.  God wins. I’m convinced that we don’t feel jipped when it is all said and done. I’m convinced that we realize it was a beautiful story – and we’re glad that we got to play a part.

That’s a lot of ass kicking for one little napkin – four bullet points that have sufficiently changed my perspective down here in the rabbit hole.  I have a hard time believing that I ever saw this clearly in the first place. It’s a pretty good thing I wrote it down. Doesn’t necessarily mean it gets any easier to climb out of here – I suppose it just gives me a reason to start picking myself up and keep on moving forward.

This morning I had breakfast with two of my favorite, fun-friends. I don’t know if you have fun-friends, but I highly recomend that you get some. They are the friends that encourage you to be glorious and goofy, honest and candid. And seemily, this is something that happens almost immediatly when meeting them. It’s almost like meeting a super hot guy that you have electrical chemistry with….excepet they are your friends, and you don’t want to make out with them. You just want breakfast and laughter with them. At least, I don’t make out with my fun friends.

Anyway, this morning we met at the Gypsie Den for breakfast. (Side note, before breakfast I got stuck in a time warp…my cell phone gitched to the wrong time, and since I am in the process of moving, it was the only clock I had. Needless to say Sophie was suprised when I called her and asked “Is is 9:42 or it is 10:21am?” Suprise, it was 10:21…which made me 20 minutes late. Oops. But clearly I had a solid excuse. “Time Warp Sophie. I can’t control the universe.”)

I realize that I love these two girls, because over 5 Grain Cereal (yes complete with puffed milk, bananas and nuts), we had conversation which moved 80 miles an hour, discussing the highs and lows of the week, relationships past, and the fact that we are fabulous (Yes, at any girls breakfast, this is a subject that does come up.) What I realized in talking to them, is that they really see me for the creative writer that I am, and encourage me to write – every day, all the time.

I left breakfast DYING to get to a computer because I felt so inspired by their thoughts. Sophie and Chris pointed out to me that I am not held captive to wearing a suit and walking into an office everday. Creativity and success can look so many different ways. And to this point I have been pushing to find a corporate job, they opened my eyes to the idea that I can persue my writing, and simply use my job as a means to a paycheck. Well, maybe a paycheck and some good writing material.

Ladies and Gentleman, I am contemplating divorcing Corporate America.

As you all know, I have some history with very corporate jobs. So naturally, the first thought I had when I got laid off was  to look for a marketing coordinator position, or something within the business world that will harness my skills at a communicator. And to be honest, after I got a “No” from this last position, I really felt burned. Maybe I was too pumped,or maybe I  set myself up for failure. Either way, I really wanted that job, as you might have noticed from this post I did right before the interview.

Now, it’s almost like I got broken up with by “job search”. I put my heart out there, and they gave the job to someone else. And like a Jr. High Girl, I want to turn around and say “Fine, job searching, I don’t need you. I’m not going to apply for jobs any more.”

Ok, so I’m not going to be one of those people who lives on unemployment forever, but all of a sudden I feel incredibly empowered. I realize, I don’t have to find a job that fits me. I just need to keep writing. And as far as how I make my money, I can do a million things. I am free to choose any job that I find INTERESTING. And I am free to take my time wandering around to find what that is….like a gypsie.

In my mind, I want to walk around in flowy skirts. I want to wear a grey beanie. I want to serve coffee and get tatoos. I want to be a bartender. I’m thinking about studying for that test for the Postal Service that I wrote on several months ago. I’m thinking about trying to find a job for a non-profit. Or working with a traveling group. Or being a roadie. Who cares?

Corporate Suit VS. Gypsie.

You have to understand where I am coming from. I’m the kid that did everything right. I went to high school, did sports, journalism, youth group, and got great grades. In high school I didn’t smoke, drink or have sex. I got into a good college. I got two degrees in four years, and graduated with honors. And even then, I still mainly walked the straight and narrow. I still don’t have tatoos, and always did what was expected. I wanted to go to Law School. I was a clean-cut good kid who always played by the rules.

Suddenly I feel relinquished. Free to work in a menial job and have it be ok. Free to ride and bus and write about it and have that be ok. Free to be artsy and eclectic. To leave the graph paper mindset behind and flow into graphic color.  I have never been more excited to be insiginificant. To be normal, and not have to be all put together.

Maybe this is the stuff most of you guys all figured out in college. Maybe you all really got a chance to experiment and find out what you wanted to do if you could do anything. Somehow I think I missed the boat. But late or never, I think I’m catching on. And it’s pretty glorious.

I told my mom tonight that I wanted to get my bartenders liscence and work in bar. I’m also thinking about not washing my hair for a while. I really think that’s actually gross, but it’s fun to think about. I also told my mom I was thinking of tatoos. She didn’t respond. Neither did my dad. It was great.

In the 1980s (84 to be exact), Cindy Lauper rocked the world with her song, Time After Time. You might remember the video of her and her multi-colored, half shaven hair agonizing over her boyfriend. Let’s be honest, I was only a year old when the video come out, so I had to youtube it.

Then, in 1998, Matchbox 20 did an awesome cover of Cindy’s song. From concert in Australia we now how this beautiful recording of a 1990s sound on our 80s hit. Personally, Matchbox 20 resonates more with me than Cindy Lauper does, but mainly because I listened to them a lot in high school. Hello, your age is showing.

Please take a moment to listen to the video. Really, go ahead, press play. You’re allowed to keep reading while the song is playing, it will enhance your experience.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UuxCOjoFp7Y]

So, now that you are rocking out and reading, here is the back story:  A few weeks ago, I had a conversation with one of my contacts regarding my ideal job. Big dreaming, here’s is what I would do if I could write the job description. I told her that I want to write. I’m a communicator – a storyteller, a public speaker, a planner, visual/photographic person. “I’m just great at communicating,” I tell her, “And that can look like a thousand things, but as long as I am working out of that strength, I would be really excited.”

 Two weeks later, I get an excited call from her. I can hear the smile through the phone. A Communications Coordinator position just became available. In her company. The hiring manager wants writing samples.

“Hi, this is your purpose in life calling. We’d like to see you for an Interview.”

Now I can’t stop thinking, “What happens if they give my purpose in life to someone else? Or what if I’m not qualified for my calling? I think that  would be THE most depressing thing that has ever happened.”

Now that we have job situation and fears thoroughly explained, please enter snake and stone, as promised in the title.  As you can imagine, I am practically having an out of body experience in trying to prepare for this interview. On Friday, driving in my car, I start praying. For those of you who might not know, I pray often. Rather, I pray mostly through the day. I think it’s because I’m an anxious control freak. Talking to myself doesn’t make me feel better. Talking to God however, seems to put me at ease a little bit.

I’m praying.  Historically, I’m brutally honest with God. You might know that from reading some of my “I’m Angry At God” blogs. So I say, “God, I’m afraid to ask for this job. I don’t even want to utter the words. Because if I do, and I don’t get it, I think I might not get out of bed for a week. Maybe two.“

Here’s what I hear: “Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? ¹⁰Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? ¹¹If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him.” (Matthew 7: 9-11)

Ok. Initiate tears.

In my 25 years, I have been all around the world, and have had amazing adventures and stories. It seems though, that the common theme with me and God is God simply saying “Trust me, trust me, trust me.” And me saying, “Maybe, I don’t know, no thank you.” When I finally get around to saying, “oooook…” usually my life takes radical exiting turns. Maybe not always in the way that I initially wanted, but it’s been one hell of a ride. And through it all, God has never let me down. The words that come to me over and over again are “Jenni, I will never leave you or forsake you.” Just like that. And I have seen God be faithful a thousand times over.

Why is it then, that I still turn around and say, “I’m afraid to ask for this, because I don’t know if you are going to come through for me?” It almost makes me feel ashamed. It’s like through all of the years, God has racked no credit with me.

Maybe you don’t believe the whole God thing. Whether there is a God or not, the principal issue is the same. You have parts of you that you don’t think anyone can be trusted with. It’s HARD to let others in. Maybe you’ve been married for 15 years, but deep down you don’t trust that your husband can do things “right” (ie – the way you think they should be done). You have friends that have known you inside and out, and you still feel vulnerable to tell them new parts about your soul. You are really great at having relationships, but if you were honest, you don’t fully trust.

Trust is hard.

I don’t have a great epiphany on how to be better at it. I don’t know if it’s something that we should be better at. I can tell you that this morning, I was folding laundry in my closet, and my ipod on random starts playing Matchbox 20.

Sometimes you picture me–
I’m walking too far ahead
You’re calling to me, I can’t hear
what you’ve said–
Then you say–go slow–
I fall behind–
the second hand unwinds

If you’re lost you can look–and you will find me
time after time
If you fall I will catch you–I’ll be waiting
time after time

Again, simple reminders from God that He is waiting to catch me – whether I get this job or not. Reminders that after years, I’m still no good at trusting. Reminders that God knows that I’m not good at trusting, and breaks in to reminds me a thousand times over that He is going to be there for me. Time after time. 

The interview is Monday at 12:30. I’ve been recruiting everyone I can get my hands on to pray for me. If you don’t pray, maybe consider introducing yourself to God, because I need a miracle here. And if you’re really opposed, at 12:30 maybe you can just send me some good ju-ju. Or if you believe in Oprah, use that “The Secret” stuff, or whatever it is. Send me your Secret Postive Oprah thoughts.

Keep you posted.

Last night, my sister came over and we watched What Happens in Vegaswith Cameron Diaz and Ashton Kutcher.

The premise of the movie was exactly what you think it should be: two attractive people meet in Vegas, get blitzed and then get hitched. It gets a little complicated when Jack (played by Kutcher), wins 3 million dollars at a slot machine right after consenting to annul the marriage with Joy (played by Diaz). Considering his new found wealth and their marital status, Joy decides she is entitled to half of the money. In a messy judge ruling, they have to spend 6 months together working out the “marriage” before they are allowed to separate and split the winnings. The rest is history – boy gets girl, boy looses girl, boy gets girl back. And they all learn something about themselves in the process. Basic obnoxious chick flick.

But the part that really caught me what this line:

 ”You are planning to plan.”

You see,  Joy is a character much like myself. She is a strong, independent woman with a professional career on Wall Street. (ok, so we are kind of similar…she’s a professional…I have no job…but go with me on this one).  She is constantly spending time trying to be everything. She is beautiful, chipper, the perfect girlfriend, and pushing for a promotion at her Wall Street job. Sound familiar? How about my entry on Dos Equis, and trying to be interesting?

A few times in the movie, a pivotal statement pointed out to her is “You are planning to plan,” showing her exactly how deep her need for control and perfection really go. Ouch.

So, here I sit, a day after watching this mediocre movie, and I cannot get this line out of my head. And while planning and control are things that I struggle with in general, it seems to be an awkward number considering everything that I have going on. It’s a little hard to plan when you don’t have a  job, and you don’t know where you are going to be living in three weeks.  And these are just the struggles with planning out the next several months.

Beyond months, I realize that I am up in the air for the next several years.  In being unemployed, and at a critical point in my career life, I realize that the next position that I undertake can have substantial impact. At the moment,  I have several things percolating, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a job offer on the table here before too long. There are several potential positions staring me right in the face: Marketing Analyst for a health care group, Admission Coordinator at a University, Admin at a major sport brand…each one of these options makes my head spin. Because they are different pieces, of different plans that don’t really fit together.

In realizing these planning fears and frustations, I come to the pinnacle when it comes to one important piece of  paper. My resume haunts me. And for one reason: A resume is a story teller. It shows potential employers where you have gone, what skills you have gained, and where you would like to go (hopefully, into their company).  But, if you are like me, your resume doesn’t one clear success story. Instead, I have what my dad so aptly stated “A smattering of experiences.” I have some HR work, I have sales, I have administrative….and when I think about it, I’m still under the heat of the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

By this point in time, I’d hoped that I would be grown up. And well into my career. But the reality is, there are people out there that look at my resume and say, “Oh, so you are still green. We have a great entry level job for you.”

And while I am humble enough to realize that I don’t know everything when it comes to the career word, I’m a little bit beyond answering phones and typing out emails for my boss. When I’m really honest with myself, I realize that my dad knows more about my hopes and dreams than I do. Because aside from telling me that I have a “smattering” of experience, he also reminds me that I have always known what I want to do.

“That’s easy.” He says, “You want to run the show. You always have, and now its just a matter of figuring out how.”

He’s totally right. I’m writer, that’s obvious. I’m a story teller, and a communicator. I’m visual. I’m into graphics and photography. I’m a coordinator. I’m a schmoozer. I have friends. I’m really great at networking. I’m smart and analytical. I’m structured. I’m inventive. I’m tenacious. I want to be the boss.

And I’m a planner. Like Joy, I can get paralyzed by planning to plan, and forgetting to let life happen. I get so stuck in the dissonance between who I am, and what my resume is not, that I forget to move forward. Instead I look at the possible job offers, where they are located, what apartments are near there, what the responsibilities of the position are, how much it is going to pay, and how that next entry on my resume is going to effect the next five years. It’s beyond exhausting, it’s ridiculous.

And althought the movie was stupid in my opinion, I know Joy found herself by getting lost. By letting go of the need to be “everything” she found what she was really looking for. I’m almost embarassed that I am finding so much deep truth out of such an awful movie. But, embarassing or not, there is truth in that. To realize that I know 40-somethings who still don’t know what they are doing, and have resumes that make them absolute failures on paper. But in real life they aren’t failures as corporate America might call them; they aren’t paralyzed like me either – they are just free. Free to make mistakes, and fail, and work at jobs that they love and don’t care if the world never thinks they are important.

I think I’d like to get there. When I’m honest, I’m already drafting a plan on how to get there in the back of my mind even as I am typing. Maybe the question now is just…

Is it ok to plan not to plan?

It’s been 12 weeks.  That’s 3 months. That’s means when you balance the two out, I have more months than money.   I’m officially bleeding red, and waiting ever so patiently for Unemployment Insurance to get their act together and send me a check in the mail (yes, somehow all of my paper work has gotten lost, twice, and 12 weeks later I’m checking the mail box like an anxious 5 year old).

Let me not get sidetracked. The issue of being broke is, obviously, associated with being unemployed.  Thankfully, a simple check from Unemployment will clear that up. What cannot be resolved with a check  is the new mindset slowly developing as the unemployed weeks pass. You see, I was fortunate to have been given the expert services of Lee Hetch Harrison.  They are an executive placement company that has mastered the technique of job searching, and they offer resources that I could not put a price on (although, I’m sure they do have prices attached somewhere).  LHH has been a critical part of discovering what goes on in the mind of “The Unemployed,” as I am not only completing their program myself, but I am also spending the majority of the day with other unemployed individuals.

There is an office that I go to a few times a week. I get dressed in a suit, wave at the receptionist, make coffee, call contacts, read emails, and schmooze around the “water cooler.” I even attend meetings! Although these things may look and feel much like a job – dear friend don’t be fooled. The only payment from these efforts will be the payoff of a job offer.

Now, part of the program is my Job Search Work Team that meets every week. They are amazing. Each week we come in with our charts and notebooks and papers, feeling important…or trying to feign importance. We go around the room and talk about how many contacts we have made that week, who we spoke with, and upcoming highlights. We discuss job postings  (and believe me, at times there aren’t many), interviews, and troubleshoot sticky situations that might arise.   This week, one of my favorite characters, a gay writer (of course),  makes the most insightful comment as we are walking into the meeting room.

 “Why is it that not having a job just seems to bring out all of my insecurities? God! Going on a job interview makes me feel like an anxious 16 year old on a first date all over again!”

He’s RIGHT!

Not having a job is like going through a break up every single day. You may think I am being dramatic, but I am not kidding!

• Pouring through Internet sites, looking for potential new jobs that would be a “good match“…sound like match.com anyone?
• Going on that first interview, where you are looking to have “Chemistry” with a company – they need to like you, you need to  like them, you need to value the same things, and you need to see eye to eye on the important things.
• They say they’ll call, and you wait by the phone…for what feels like FOREVER.
• Even if the job isn’t the right “fit” for you, and you KNOW you don’t want to work there, it still hurts to be told no.  “I want to break up with them first!” Sound familiar? (yeah, its called my Friday night last week).
• If you have good “chemistry” with HR, they ask you on a second date, I mean interview…but this time with the hiring manager. Talk about pressure!
• Sometimes they bring in a “Panel Interview.” Is this like  the “Want to meet my family?” conversation that inevitably comes up too early in dating?
• When you get all the way through the Panel Interview, and they DON”T offer you the job, there is always going to be some friend consoling you over lunch or drinks, telling you “Honey, you didn’t want to work for them anyway. I bet that guy was an asshole!”
• And even if they give you a job offer (which is like an engagement ring) – it has a numerical value tied to how much they like you. It’s called your salary. Or your carat size. Same difference.

In short, being unemployed can make you resilient,  or it can destroy you. I suppose whichever one comes first. As I sit every morning, pouring over my “Positioning statement” (I am a highly proficient business professional with expertise in communication both written and verbal…), I can’t help but feel like a sixteen year old girl, staring in the mirror saying “I’m pretty, and funny, and smart, and cute, and outgoing…” and trying to make myself believe it.

Maybe Prince Charming is out there. Maybe right now, he’s sitting at a restaurant table and sharing a laugh and a drink with my future boss.  Maybe they’re buddies. Maybe they both don’t know it, but I’m sitting here, waiting to have the chance to radically change both of their worlds.

Until I find the road to that restaurant table to schmooze with my future life, I suppose I’ll keep looking, all the while reciting to myself …

“I’m a beautiful business professional, who’s great at being a girlfriend and has expertise in communication, both written and verbal…”

As my boyfriend called it, it’s not like loosing your job, it’s more like 8 weeks of “paid vacation!” Which seemed to ring pretty true for most of last week. I cleaned, I filed, and vacuumed, I did laundry – visited friends and working out everyday…it just seemed like it was 5pm before I even blinked.

But then yesterday, while my man was working from home, I came down the stairs and he said to me “So what are you going to do today?” And there it was – he’s sitting at his kitchen surrounded in files and emails, with his attorney job in his brand new house…and there I am standing in my pajamas thinking “I have no where to be today…I have nothing to do and no where to go….I have no appointments, I have no people waiting for me….I’m just useless, and fruitless, and hopeless, and worthless…” And then came the flood of tears as I crumbled in his bathroom – proceeding to cry for the next hour or so.

Now I know that this is the part where everyone is going to comment and say “Jenni you are not worthless…bla bla bla” – and its good to hear those things, but I want to interject here that I do know it. I suppose what just surprised me the most was just that the words of one man letting me go a few weeks ago could echo so loudly in my insides. Or simply that my little notepads with my name and job title on the top of them would be so meaningful to what I have to offer the world. And we all know that our jobs don’t define us – but get laid off and I promise there will be a day where you are the a least a bit shaken.

The thing is, I’m hungry. Last year I spent 7 months looking for jobs. 3 of those months were in Canada, and when I finally had a job, there suddnely was no reason to go to Canada anymore. Thus I began the search back here in Orange County. And after that experience, I am beginning to think that there is a limit or a capacity that a person has to hearing the words “I’m sorry, you just don’t match what we are looking for.” I know it isn’t personal, or that they aren’t saying that you aren’t a great person with lots of skills – they are just saying that you aren’t THEIR great person with skills. But I think after you hear it 1,050 times (7 months x 30 days/mo. X 5 job applications/day = 1, 050 rejections) it begins to wear on you just a little bit.

I just want to be taken seriously. To have someone say to me “You know, you work hard and we really think you are a great asset to this company and we would love to continue to let you handle projects with more responsibility.” And instead, I feel like I keep getting “Can you please fax this?” Maybe I’m looking in the wrong kinds of careers, or maybe its just a little over zealous, but I am beginning to questions whether or not I am cut out for this career thing at all. And this is the thoughts that bring us to me lying on my boyfriends bathroom floor in a crumbled heap. Beautiful isn’t it?

So, today is Tuesday and a new day. I got up and went walking. And then got dressed and brushed my teeth. I sent out some applications and went to Starbucks to get a part time job before I’m declared legally insane…or clinically depressed – or both. Gotta celebrate the small victories, like my mom says. So hurray for me: I’m showered, I have make up on, and I’m getting the ball rolling.

And it is in the car on the way back from Starbucks that I am reminded of where I am at in life. Apparently teenage pop does have some vital life lessons, because Jordin Sparks essentially kicked my depressed ass:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pI-H8Vlwbck

One Step at a Time:

Hurry Up and Wait, so close but so far away. Everything that you always dreamed of – close enough for you taste, but you just touch.

So you want to show the world but no one knows your name yet, you dont know where and how you’re going to make it. You know you can if you get the chance – in your face the door keeps slammin. Now your feeling more and more frustrating, and you’re getting all kinda impatient. Watin – we live and we learn to take

One step at a time, there’s no need to rush, it’s like learning to fly or falling in love. It’s gonna happen when its supposed to happen, and we’ll find the reasons why, one step at a time.

You believe and you doubt, you’re confused and you have it all figured out. Everything that you’ve always wished for – could be yours, should be yours, would be yours, if they only knew.

So you want to show the world but no one knows your name yet, you dont know where and how you’re going to make it. You know you can if you get the chance – in your face the door keeps slammin. Now your feeling more and more frustrating, and youre getting all kinda impatient. Watin – we live and we learn to take

One step at a time, there’s no need to rush, it’s like learning to fly or falling in love. It’s gonna happen when its supposed to happen, and we’ll find the reasons why, one step at a time.

When you can’t wait any longer, but there’s no end in sight – you need to find your strength – its your faith that makes you stronger… only way we get there is one step at a time.

One step at a time, there’s no need to rush, it’s like learning to fly or falling in love. It’s gonna happen when its supposed to happen, and we’ll find the reasons why, one step at a time.

OK Jordin. Thanks for kicking my ass into shape. You may have written just be a teeny-bopper song for 14 year old…but maybe there is some profound wisdom in your words. So for today, I’ve picked myself up out of my closet – resigned to the fact that no I can’t live there no matter how many HR Recruiters tell me that I’m not qualified to do some menial task like filing or picking strawberries….because apparently in this economy you need a P.h.D to prove that you know how to turn on a computer.

And for any of you out there who know of any job openings, I have decided to that I am open to anything short of prostitution…but only because I don’t think my boyfriend would like it if I start selling myself for sex.

OK that was a joke. But I am really looking for jobs. Hook a sister up.