Sanskrit

I can’t do one more thing for someone else today, was what I said to myself when my son asked this evening if I’d make him two pieces of toast. It felt selfish, the second the thought crossed my mind.  I hadn’t seen Nick all day; he hadn’t been the one making demands on me. Was it really so difficult or such an inconvenience to appease him?

This is my first week at my new client assignment.  Yes, I’ve finally made it out of the awkward, landing a leadership position, and have decided I am sorely out of shape for the real world.  The commute is long, there are introductions to be made, a slew of meetings to attend,  personalities to learn, new expectations to be met, and a computer that I somehow managed to lock myself out of on Day 2. I feel like the treadmill I was leisurely walking on has been accelerated to the highest speed.  I’m furiously running, trying to be everywhere at once, and in serious danger of being launched off the back the second I slow down.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very excited about this position and so happy to be back working with a team again. I just want to be great instantly, but getting acclimated to a new place always takes time.

I did what any sensible girl would do in this high stress situation; I went for a run.  After rain all day, the sun had finally shown its face right before sunset, and I decided if I moved quickly, I could get some miles in before dark.  I braved a loop I hadn’t traversed since the winter. Without my usual running companions who assume all navigational duties, I wasn’t quite sure if I would remember the route, but it didn’t matter.  All I knew was that I needed out.

Not surprisingly, I had no trouble deciding where to turn as I weaved my way through the grounds of the abbey and adjacent subdivisions. But if I had been asked to give directions, I wouldn’t have a clue. 

Earlier in the day, my boss discovered that he and a client, as kids, had family in the same town.  As my boss described the location of his grandparent’s home, not in street names, but in landmarks, I smiled, wondering how many trips he’d taken in the backseat of his parents’ car. A path etched indelibly in his mind, a map written in the language of love.

It’s funny that we find our way through life so often without being able to tell anyone how we’re getting there.

In sorting out the puzzle of my week, it became evident I am the one placing all the demands on myself.  My own worst enemy as usual, I’ve sped up the treadmill while everyone around me seems completely willing to grant me the grace that’s required to settle in and learn the lay of the land.  I’m the one who wants to be instantly infused with the roadmap of understanding that only comes with time.

After logging 4 miles, I turned back into my neighborhood, noticing I had been gaining speed.  I felt like I could run another four.  I stopped in my garage for water and walked a few more minutes in the dusk. I was breathing easier, and feeling better about my situation.  It’s temporary. 

Soon I’ll be immersed in the culture and the nuances of my new environment. I’ll know where I’m going by instinct, able to explain my way in that mystical dialect known only to those who’ve walked this path many times over.