There are lots of places in life where it seems I’ve created stumbling blocks for myself, or just not seen a thing all the way through.
A quick run-down of projects outstanding and intentions gone astray:
- The Artist’s Way (Yeah, girl. It’s supposed to be a practice)
- Exercising in the morning (HAHAHAHAHA)
- The research article (Get on it).
I find myself in limbo between, “Get your sh*t together, woman!” and “Be compassionate with yourself. You do good work. You’ve got a lot going on.”
Twenty billion years ago or so, I worked in restaurants. There’s an impatience when the ticket has taken too long. The patrons go from happily chatting to wondering what is taking so long. Have they been forgotten? The waitress stands at the line with her hands on her hips tapping her feet, her lips pursed. She sucks her teeth as she asks the cook where it’s at. The cook throws his hands in the air. One thing got delayed and then another. What tw*t changes their mind when the food’s halfway done? It’s not his fault! This sh*t is ridiculous!
In life, with tickets outstanding, I am the patron and the waiter and the cook all at the same time.
And yet, I am adding another ticket to the line.
The new ticket on the line is my MBA.
Progress so far is that I am accepted to Louisiana State University’s online MBA program and registered for my first 2 semesters of courses.
If I were approaching this new experience with a foundation of personal successes where I’d been crushing my personal goals it might feel more certain and comfortably confident. That’s the ticket! But with a rack of false starts, or incomplete tickets, the uncertainty is thick and difficult to clear.
There’s a nagging part of me as I write this. Should this uncertainty be guarded? Should I cover it in bravado and pretend to have my sh*t together with utter confidence? While I’m not certain, like at all right now, (Uncertainty is the name of the game) I think this is right. It’s right to write it down, or to say it aloud. It’s right to own our sh*t and right now uncertainty is my sh*t. It’s my own thing to work through and maybe I do that by returning to the practices, The Artist’s Way, the morning exercise, that I started with and maybe not.
The MBA matters. To me. It matters to be able to do what I want to do, which is to be part of building healthy organizations and coaching leaders to support a*s-kicking happy teams.
So I push the ticket down the line. Uncertain about what happens from here to there, along the cord that stretches between time and space, but I am certain that the realization of this goal is delicious.
Whatcha got cooking?