It’s been three nearly three months since my last blog post, making this one of the largest gaps between posts since I first starting writing regularly over four years ago. For that, I owe you and all my other friends, family, and readers a deep apology. The art of communication is a delicate two-way street. It’s a dance, conversation, action-and-reaction, between two people or things, and I’ve clearly dropped the ball on my end of the bargain.

Not that it excuses my silence... but at the very least, I can assure you that: one, I haven’t forgotten about you; and two, I’ve been lost in deep contemplation in regards to how and why I want to continue publishing my work.

The first thing you should know about my recent blogging hiatus is that in June, 2016 I started an entirely new career, working for a world-class bank here in San Francisco. Prior to accepting this offer, I was running my own business: filling my days consulting, writing, researching, and designing. Now, nearly all of my mental and physical energy is being poured into educating myself about the banking industry and building my list of clients. The transition has totally thrown me outside of my comfort zone, and right back to being a nervous novice.

If you’re the kind of person who takes immense pride in being proficient with your work, and you savor that feeling of a “job well done”, then you know how jarring it can be to your ego when you start something new, stumbling your way through it, and exposing all your weaknesses to everyone in the process. Unfortunately, that’s pretty much been me these last three months.

Which brings us back to today and this post. I’m finally beginning to feel like I’m getting the hang of my new position, along with its accompanying complexities. I know I still have a tremendous amount to learn, but I feel as if I can at least cover the basics without completely falling on my face.

Just Being Here

As with any major life change: career, family, moving, it always takes time to adjust and settle in. There are some people who are really good at this. Like the Kung Fu master, Bruce Lee, these people are proverbially, “like water” effortlessly flowing with the ever-dynamic status quo that is life. I’m not one of these people.

I have to pretend to let go of the control, and tell myself it’s all going to be alright. What choice do I have? In every life transition, it’s in resisting change that creates tension. Or in the words of marathon-running novelist, Haruki Marukami, “Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.”

I wrote a post a long time ago about maps. Basically, maps are really useful tools for guiding any kind of journey. But there inevitably comes a point when you have to look up from your map and just go. And sometimes, the most useful part about using a map is not actually knowing what the terrain looks like, but where you are, relative to the rest of the trail. Those big letters and arrows, the ones you can find inside any American suburban super-mall, that read, “YOU ARE HERE” actually tell you all you need to know: where you’ve been, where you want to go, and what you need to do to get there.  

Once again, I apologize for my embarrassingly long gap in writing. Honestly, I think I’ve just been a bit lost with all the recent changes to my work-life. I needed some time to recalibrate how this recent move fits back in with my “big picture”. I had to find myself on my map, and chart a new course for the adventure ahead. So, thanks for sticking with me, I’m lucky to have you all along the way.