Out of My Discomfort Zone

As I type this, I am awaiting a phone call from a potential employer. I am being seriously considered for a full-time hospice position in a town about 30 miles away. What shall I hope for? I’m not sure I can commit to a new job, a daily commute, or a new town. Conversely, can I turn down a job that would help steer my career in the direction I’ve always been curious about?  Although I no longer consider myself Catholic, or traditionally religious for that matter, I still have a sense that tells me to “let go and let god”. Or let fate, destiny, karma, or something larger than myself intervene. This job found me; does that mean I have an obligation to it, like the abandoned kitten on my doorstep earlier this summer, parched?

Longitude and I would not be together now if we hadn’t just relaxed, let go of expectation, and waited for our relationship to play out. In the beginning, it was sex and talking to the wee hours of the morning. Our separate daily lives slowly merged until moving in together was an evolution, not a choice. Neither one of us struggled with commitment, because we didn’t have to. We only promised to love each other fairly, and always be willing to give our relationship the chance it deserves, the chance we gave it over six years ago.

Why is it then, that I now feel the need to play out every potential consequence of every decision, instead of just letting life happen? Has age taken away this ability? Or having a child? We have not headed back to Illinois because things didn’t fall into place, yet. I have made peace with that, and I suppose I will make peace with whatever the outcome this day will bring. I just wish I were at peace now, in the waiting, like before.