As a therapist, I get to have deep conversations, powerful experiences, and emotionally intimate relationships, one person at a time... Introvert heaven.
First I had to admit that I was angry. Then I had to stay with my anger, to listen to it. By paying attention, I could transform destructive anger into creative anger.
I cannot connect with the idea of a calling that can be translated perfectly into a paycheck, a position, or a fixed identity associated with something I do. If I have one, my vocation is to be alive, to listen quite literally to my body and its rhythms: Every. Single. Moment. And to honor and ...
My belief at the time was that I would 'go' when the money ran out. I thought, "Well, fuck it, the Universe obviously must not want me in it." Job-hunting and interviewing became a daily practice of building myself up only to be torn down. So I gave the Universe a suicide deadline.