It’s been one week (officially 1 1/2 weeks, but who’s counting?) since I was laid off.
For the most part, I’m doing okay. I’m certainly doing better than the last time I was between jobs. Back then, I had less than one, maybe two, paychecks set aside to help me – whether it be moving, paying my phone bill, or taking care of gas. Student loans took all but $100, give or take $50, each paycheck. But if it meant I would continue staying on their good graces, then I was…tolerant. Yeah, that’s a good word.
To put it bluntly, I wasn’t sitting pretty then. It had to be the sheer graces of the heavens (and I’m willing to bet several fantastic reviews from past bosses) when I accepted the job with Cross Insurance.
Now, however, I’m in a better position. Yes, I’m still without a job, and that is bad no matter how you look at it, but at least I am a little bit smarter, wiser, and more resourceful in what I need to do. I’m in a better boat to move closer to a new job. Whether that is back in Portland, farther out to Boston, or even D.C. (a city I will always love – even with its political turmoil) I have enough set aside to help me land on more solid ground.
I had a dream some time ago; it wasn’t like most dreams – it was vivid, bright, and so filled with hope, I couldn’t help but remember the details the following morning. I think this happened a couple years ago, but I still remember it as if it happened last night.
In this dream, I was walking around this neighborhood. It wasn’t a place I recognized, but it felt so calming, so relaxed, it was as if I had grown up there. Strong brick buildings stood side-by-side-by-side like soldiers, all dressed in rustic red suits with charcoal grey linings. The sidewalks were cobblestone – uneven, yet flowed like gritty rivers along the earth. Kids played catch in the street and scattered whenever a car chugged through. It was the peak of fall; all of the trees were vibrant hues of red, orange, and yellow. I remember wrapping my purple scarf more around my head. I walked into a small mom-and-pop thrift store – I wanted something to commemorate the move into the neighborhood. I don’t remember what I had bought in the dream, only that it was something that felt smooth to the touch, like glass.
The dream was so mundane – so ordinary – compared to all the other dreams I usually had. And yet, this dream has stuck with me for years. Why? Because I was somewhere in my own apartment, doing my own things, following my own path. It felt right to me. It felt as though that place, wherever it was, was the place I needed to return to.
I was starting my way on that path when the virus took control of this world. Unfortunately, this is something I can’t control. None of us can. That being said, this little hiccup in my life won’t stop me from getting back to that dream neighborhood. At this point, I don’t care if that exact street doesn’t exist. There are places on this Earth that come pretty darned close.
I am still hopeful I will get there. I know I will get there. I need to. I also have a hope for all who read this: think of a place – just like the one I have from my dream. Focus on that place. If you want it to be a person, then okay, it’s a person. Focus on getting yourself to that place or person, no matter what. That’s how I’m keeping my hope. I pray it helps you keep your hope too




