Journal: #269 Without Blessing, Go I

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There’s a point a person reaches when they must jump from the secure, if they want to do the impossible. I am staring at that jumping-off point. A year ago, I left the comfort of a miserable yet steady job and leapt into the fog of the unknown. And now, I’m watching the fog lift. I know how I want to spend my life, and what dreams give me joy.

I don't want to market software or non-profits. I don't want to crunch data or pour over email copy. I don't care about lead funnels, landing pages, or cost-per-click averages. And, video chats exhaust me. I strain to pay attention, especially in group meetings.

What's in my to do it create, teach, and mentor. And damnit, I want to enjoy what I do. My current job limits my creativity. Most of the instruction is via YouTube link. And, I have no opportunities to mentor. I'm not ungrateful or dissatisfied with my current job. The men I work with are outstanding humans. They love me, and I love them. It's the work. I don't have intrinsic for it. God bless people who do.

There are a few notions rolling though my mind lately, and it's centered on my history. I don't work one job for very long, and that's a problem. Something is wrong with me. The fact in that statement is my tendency to float from company to company. If my memory is accurate, the longest I was continuously employed by a company is about two years. On it's face it looks bad for a forty year-old man to bounce from shop to shop. But, I don't care.

I wasn't born to market, run a restaurant, complete non- profit projects, or sell software over the phone. I was born to love people, and my persistent heart sabotaged every attempt to do anything else.

The only aspect I miss of any job I held is people I got to work with at each stop. I remember Ms Diane from my first restaurant gig. She was single mother of two teenage boys. She taught school during the day and waited tables at night to provide for her boys. Then there was Steve, who I met during my stint in a warehouse. He's the first person I knew to be HIV positive. While I do not miss my last job with Jason, I miss the crew and community we developed. All that is a huge data point, and I couldn't see it until last summer. I'm a people person hidden under the burden of "doing stuff." Newsflash to Nik: I'm not a stuff doer.

I know what's ahead for me and what I want to do. I'm going to create an environment for people to come into. Once established, I'll sow into them until they're move on. Believe it or not, I love the idea. Love. It. It’s a dream I can no longer afford to put off. With or without the understanding of those around me, I’m going to start building that environment.

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Over a Month In, What a Trip

I decided to re-read all of my posts on this blog, from the beginning. It’s a good practice I’ve been told. I usually write a thing- blog post or journal entry- and move on, never to visit it again. 

I admit I am pleased with my progression. Each post is earnest and true to who I was in the moment I wrote it. And…I can see a slow stripping of self-conscience censorship. Still, I hold more regard for the newest posts and something bordering on shame in older. 

Why is that? Why do I feel ashamed of something I did a month ago? My first- and likely accurate- thought is I am ashamed because I tried to sound important and wise. What a difference a month makes. A month ago I wanted to believe I held something of value for others. Now, I genuinely believe it, as I believe I inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide. I do not need to prove my words and testimony are powerful, I only need to let them out. 

Dear reader, you may not be impressed with me or my writing. And I would agree except that my writing improved since the beginning of July, and I beg you to accept this wisdom: Do a thing, any thing, intentionally. Everyday. Believe in the person our Father created you to be. And you will see results. Movement along the curve. 

If you want to find some motivation…after the month is over, project your results over the next eleven months. Hot damn, I just got excited!

Yeah, I’m no Hemingway or Lewis, but I ain’t Nik from a month ago either. 

Thank you Jesus. How true your words are.