I have never considered myself inflexible when it comes to change. The view that I have had of myself is that I am a flexible –come what may individual. And so, I approached this fellowship and for the most part, everything I have ever done in life, with a come-what-may attitude. However, towards the end of my journey on this fellowship, I began to question this view that I’ve held of myself so so long. Was I really as flexible and opened to change as I thought? Why now was I questioning this persona that I’ve not only come to know but, have for years, pride myself on?
I had no idea! Perhaps age? They say the more you “adult” the less open you become to uncertainties. Or,, is it possible that I’ve changed? All I knew was that the uncertainties that were ahead of me scared me to the core; so much so, that I became crippled. I could see various paths in front of me, different opportunities yet still, I found myself unable to move forward.
The old me would easily sit down to pen different strategies to tap into the opportunities that were now in arms reach. But each time I sat down to write an application, I would work myself up into anxiety, write one sentence and, stared at it for hours on- only to retire at the end of the night feeling very depressed. This became a routine; I would stalk an opportunity months before, crunched to write the application the day before, or of, the deadline only to throw in the towel hours into the application. Feeling depressed at yet another missed deadline. This continued for months-on.
I told myself this had to stop and, so I began to reflect on what the real issues were? Why was my inner saboteur front and center at this juncture in my life? What was my why?
After a few weeks, it finally dawned on me.
– Why was I unable to complete any of these applications?
– Why wasn’t I jumping at the opportunities before me?
– Why did, I (foolishly?) turned down two job offers?
– Why was I so anxious about the next phase of my journey?
– Why was I seemingly so unchangeable?
After answering all these questions, I realized that I had a clear sense of what I did not want to do. However, I was nowhere closer to understanding what I wanted to do and that, the anxiety attacks were as a result of me feeling that at the end of 18 months, I had failed to find passion. Once I got to the source of my issues, I was able to move again. I decided that instead of focusing my attention on finding my passion, I was going to start to follow my curiosity. Who knows, taking clues from my curiosity might just lead me to my passion.