Well, I’ve cut back my consumption of Chinese food considerably in recent months (what a stretched budget does to you), but I broke down tonight and splurged for a chicken chow fun takeout from Shanghai Gourmet, the excellent place across the Boston Post Road from my coffee hangout in Orange. (That’s Connecticut.)
And, well, it seems as if the universe is speaking to me through fortune cookies again, at long last.
One thing I’ve been wrestling with the last few years, thanks to the lingering job(less) situation, is the pervasive sense of failure. And that has crept over into my personal life — just at the time, thanks to my transition, that I started to develop self-esteem for the first time in my life.
Starting with my little gender epiphany 5 1/2 years ago, I’ve confronted and conquered just about every single fear in my life — except failure. Every no and nonresponse to every resume I’ve sent has added to the feeling of failure, as if my life has amounted to nothing. It’s made me curtail my writing on this here blog — few people read it anymore, so it must suck. I must be a terrible writer. And if no one reads the blog anymore, if I write the book, it’ll be a failure, too. And that’s one last failure I’m not ready to face. That one would be devastating.
Rationally, I understand that this kind of thinking feeds off itself and isn’t healthy. Rationally. The logical half of the brain. But the half that rules the heart says it’s true.
Anyway, I’m at a point where I’m getting nibbles again on the employment front — encouragement and discouragement and a lot of waiting all at once. On the whole, I’m in a decent place. Which set the table perfectly for tonight’s fortune:
“Do not fear failure.”
Easier said than done, but I’ll take that as a gentle, subtle hint from the universe to start writing again. Maybe I don’t suck after all. And the only thing we have to fear …