Fine-tuning: When you can finally see (a little) beyond the cliff
The other day I had a conversation with my naturopathic doctor, whose knowledge and expertise I’ve grown to value and trust. Our discussion centered upon my most recent tests mainly concerning my thyroid issue, but she was also monitoring my overall wellness (as naturopaths are born to do!).
There were some changes in treatment I had embraced in the past year or so, based upon her recommendation and guidance, that were resulting in improved health.
Even though I was almost where she wanted me to be, she wanted to adjust one of my prescriptions to better align with my treatment plan. She called this stage “fine tuning.”
I had to lightheartedly sigh in agreement. I couldn’t help but tell her how “fine tuning” is exactly how I feel about everything else in my life right now, in addition to my physical health and wellbeing.
The proverbial winds of change started blowing in early 2015. Little did I know back then how intense a change it would be and how it would upset my life (and the lives of those close around me) for quite some time. In fact, I’m still rolling out of the tumble a bit. But it feels like I’m approaching the fine-tuning stage.
My life looked a lot different then. I was working full-time, with a three-hour commute each day. My days were spent scrambling in a corporate job, sometimes being on-call at nights and weekends, and the evenings were spent making sure everything was OK at home with my family. Weekends were spent doing everything in-between— grocery shopping, exercising, catching up around the house. Not that a person can’t make this kind of life work — and, I totally admire those who do. It had amazing financial benefits and stability to a certain extent.
But for me, I couldn’t get some very troubling thoughts out of my mind; they constantly compelled me to think about a different kind of life plan, other options for work and life management. Most significantly, I was questioning my life’s purpose, seriously stressing over not spending enough time with my kids and rushing around so much that even when my sweet-loving dog greeted me as I came home from an 11-hour day set me off. Now that’s disturbing!
So, for now I’m free from all of that, and I’m fortunate enough that I can take a break for a while, allow some time for healing and recovery, and most importantly some space to critically think about my next steps. The thought of something new is enthralling. It also scares me to death. I’m hopeful, yet trying to be realistic. Falling upwards, while trying to keep my feet on the ground. I miss people from my past job. It’s tempting to fall into despair sometimes (i.e., what am I doing with my life?).
But at the end of the day, I know that separating from that particular company was the right thing to do. I may not know where I’m going, but in a way that’s the best part.
I think it was iconic American actress Elizabeth Taylor who said during the onset of World War II, “Now is the time for guts and God.” Well, whoever said it at whatever period of time, it certainly applies to my situation these days, and I couldn’t agree more.
I’ve got my battle plan, and I’m ready for the next charge.