Character and Uncertainty

I'm less in shock today than I was on Friday, but I'm still reeling from losing my job. It's really difficult to process. One day you're getting up at 6 o'clock and slogging along through rush hour traffic and the next you're wide awake and 6 o'clock sobbing because you're not quite sure how things are going to work out.

Today I'm looking around at my suddenly unplanned life and trying to lay tracks where they were recently dug up. I'm trying to find strength to reclaim my own fortitude because I know it's there. I do. And those of you who've told me to take heart--thank you. When facing the shock of sudden and pervasive uncertainty, it is inherently difficult to take heart in messages that appear to completely invalidate the situation, its seriousness, repercussions, and pain... however unintended the invalidation might be... it's still invalidating and, therefore, more painful.

But I'm terrible at processing uncertainty. It's probably my greatest weakness. When it comes to planning ahead, thinking things through, and organizing, I'm your gal. I can really set things in motion and lay down a path for success. In fact, I'm convinced that is what made school so easy for me. The path was laid out--different grades with classes to take, tests to pass, papers to write. All I had to do was show up, try my best, and win the day. Frequently I did just that. It was so natural.

Now that I'm not in school (finishing grad school threw me for a loop, trust me!), things are less clearly defined. There are no definitive achievements (like diplomas or degrees or year-end grades) unless you set them for yourself. There are no organized portions of the year (like semesters and breaks) unless you organize them for yourself. There are no measured or predetermined activities unless you choose them for yourself.

This is probably why running makes so much sense to me. There are achievements, seasons, and activities and I just have to choose to take part in them and *voilà!* predictability!

But the uncertainty of life on a larger scale--the grand scheme, the big "What If," which not even running can pretend to answer--is what makes me crazy.

I like plans.

I like plans so much that yesterday I made a list of projects that I can do around the house while I'm unemployed. I like plans so much that I bookmarked a bunch of job search websites and have blocked off a few hours each morning to go a-hunting. I like plans so much that I am trying to organize and reorganize my life in order to give me solace during this time of chaos.

Today the chaos really resonates with me. It was ten years ago today that my family's house burned down. I was a senior in high school, there was a two-hour delay because of a sparkling blanket of snow covering the school district, and I met up with a photographer to have my senior portraits taken. Those portraits are the last moments of "normal" or "calm" that I remember. After that, I smell smoke, I see soot and burned memories, and I feel hurt so deep it rocked my core.

That was ten years ago. Since then, my family has overcome many more tough times. Maybe none matching the magnitude of losing your home to fire, but certainly tough times attributable to personalized suffering through myriad pain. Most families have, but I tend to think that my family is tougher than most. I don't care if that's a little egotistical. We're hardy.

So I know I'll come out on top. I know I'll find some other job. I know I'll take uncertainty, whip it into my own personal mold, and eat it for breakfast one day. I know I can do it. I just might need you, my friends, to remind me once in awhile.