Unknown

A friend said last night that it was natural to fear the unknown. She told me that I shouldn't be in a rush. I should just enjoy each day of this journey. She told me to relax into my freedom. I have the resources, I have the time. I must sit with it and let things unfold.

We talked on the phone. She'd just spent a day of nothing before she went back to work today. She enjoyed it she said. "Unproductive feels good at times," and then she listened to me worry about the thought of being unproductive for the rest of my life.

"You worry too much," she warned.

Duh.

I have a list on my desk of all the things I must do today. They aren't "musts" really as guidelines. These are the activities I can do if I find myself with nothing to do, but perhaps doing nothing is what I am wrestling with the most. I am not good at "nothing."

The days have been hot and humid. Yesterday's 90 degree heat turned us into putty. We laid around and watched terrible television shows, old movies, and slept. Even the dog was too hot to really be an annoyance. There was a whole lot of "nothing" going on as the heat expanded in the house and the breezes died. Yesterday I was good at "nothing," but it was out of necessity and survival, not some Zen-like practice.

Today promises to be cooler, but the nothing I feel like doing results not from an inner journey of awareness, but from an overwhelming feeling of where to begin. My list of things to do is long, but I struggle with where to start. There's pasta sauce to be made for tonight's dinner. Making it in the cool part of the morning feels like a good idea, but so does cleaning the house and weed-eating the yard.

There are job applications to fill out and the dog needs a good brushing. The list for Costco an the grocery store is long, but leaving the dog in a warm house feels as cruel as leaving him in a hot car. I know I will start soon -- one thing on the list, then the next -- but in this space between not doing and doing I can sense a vibration of fear.

I have leapt. I have left my career and now I'm staring at my compass. The needle is spinning slowly. "This is the vacation you wanted," Ann tells me. Yes, but what's after vacation?

She laughs at me. "You move too fast in this heat," she chides. "You need to learn to slow down. Not everything has to be accomplished today. What will be on your list tomorrow? Nothing?"

Nothing. The unknown. Are they one and the same? I'd like to think not, but right now they are folded in on one another so tightly it's difficult to distinguish their separate features. Regardless, I am equally uncomfortable with both.

Ironic. I wanted to do less. I wanted to not work so hard and let my body relax into something peaceful and calm. I wanted time to think. Instead, I could easily work myself into a state of panic and fear. My thinking could be devoured by doubt and insecurity. I could easily let the unknown overtake me and fall into a pit of nothingness.

I won't, but knowing that is cold comfort. It doesn't motivate me to change old habits. It just makes me uncomfortable with the unknown that sits before me.

"You just have to make peace with the unknown," my friend said last night on the phone. "That takes awhile, but you'll get there."

Enough. I shall begin with pasta sauce and while it's simmering, I'll dust the rest of the house, then sweep, then mop. Check marks on a list are always satisfying. I'll think about today's list today and tomorrow's list tomorrow. I'll push nothing into the future where it can sit safely with the unknown...temporarily.