The Mask

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Halloween isn’t until tomorrow, but I feel as if I’ve been in costume all month long–which is to say that I’ve been  interviewing for jobs–“masking” myself for someone else’s “part.”

I’ve never realized just how exhausting this process is–probably because I’ve always taken whatever has been offered–without caring for fit.

This time, however, I’m doing it differently.  This time, my insides have to agree with my mind.  Or even yet–trump it.

My new approach has  lengthened the search by far.  What began in early summer, has only now begun to bear fruit–and much of it bitter.

My mind has agreed to several positions, but my insides have not.  Until now.

Now, it’s my mind which objects, while my insides simply smile, in uncanny certainty.

Although I’ve tried, I cannot find a bit of turbulence inside to match that of my mind’s.  This has resulted in a wrestling match between brain and gut–and for the first time, ever, the gut is the heavy weight.

It is the day before, the day before, Halloween, when I arrive for my last interview–without a bit of churning inside.  I have been effervescent all day in anticipation, and recognize the rightness of the place as if coming home, though I’ve never been there quite so surely before.

During the interview, I have to restrain the expression of utter GLEE until I excuse myself for the bathroom and let it all go there–smiles, and laughter, and hands rushing through hair, and exhales, and YES!

My mind quickly masks such a vulnerable expression.  There must be problems.  There must be something.  And though I am sure that my mind is correct, it is no matter, because this is what I want.  This is what I have called in, again and again, but never before with such clarity and accuracy.

My husband waits in the parking lot of the Tavern in which we are to meet, but I am an hour late. The interview has gone on that long.  When he steps out of his car, I want to collapse into his arms.  And in fact, once inside, I do, over and over again, leaving my seat by the fire, for his, dismissing the glances of onlookers as I melt into his side.

My husband mistakes my emotion for anguish or fear, but it is neither.  It is bliss, and the overwhelming response to receiving exactly what I wanted.

Though there are others to be interviewed, and the decision won’t be made for another week, my insides are not worried. They know.

My mind thinks I’m crazy.  But its place in the driver’s seat has been usurped.  Relieved, it relaxes into its proper place.  It was always meant to be a tool, not a craftsman.

And yet, it is confused.  Given the alignment of my insides, it imagines a seamless transition from found to had. What is this waiting, it wonders.

And then it knows.  It is time to clear the way–to make room for this new claim–to shape my life in such a way that it allows me to have what it is I want.

And at last, my insides tremble, relieved to be supported by such a capable mind….

Kelly Salasin, Octover 30, 2010.

(Note: to read the previous post on the Life Purpose Path, click this link: CRAP, I Need a Job;

to read the follow up post, click this: The Fire of Fear.)

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