I’m sipping my coffee and taking a break from reviewing an unexpectedly long list of new opportunities to consider. It’s a Monday, and for now the “new normal” in my work day is about looking for new work.

An earlier than necessary start feels consistent with an adult lifetime of working, and both gives me a leg up on the day, and an opportunity to slip out of the house well-before my Traveling Partner awakens. Ideally, this let’s him sleep in a bit, and that thought fills me with joy. (Human primates need to be able to rest even at the best of times, and we’ve both been ill for days and earnestly need as much rest as we can get.) Rest is not exclusively about sleep, though, and I make a point to take a short break from compiling job leads and catching up on various other job search tasks. I take a short walk around the block in the morning air under a soft gray rather featureless sky, then sit down to write – with a fresh cup of coffee.

I sip my coffee and sigh quietly out loud in this co-work space that will soon no longer be available. It’s hard to make a small business thrive in tough economic times. The shifting culture with regard to work, and whether that is in-office or remote work for many roles that lack a clear actual need to be “on site” for some legitimate business purpose, makes operating a co-work space a less than ideally secure business prospect in a small town, and the one I frequent is closing. For me, the convenience of a co-work space near to home has been a handy luxury that I appreciate – I’ll be sad to lose it.

I take a moment for gratitude – for this convenient space, and also for the ease with which I’ll be able to pivot to a different approach, a new routine, a new normal, after this final week in this quiet place. I’m fortunate. I’ve got a career that works well with remote work, and an approach to work that allows me considerable flexibility personally as to whether I work in-office or remotely in the first place. I’ve got a partnership at home that supports my freedom to choose from my options in the fashion that best suits me at the time, and a partner that “gets it” about why I might choose one thing or another. I enjoy another sip of my still-hot second cup of coffee as I reflect upon my good fortune, knowing it may not last, enjoying it while it does.

One of the challenges, for me, on life’s journey, has been finding myself distracted from “here and now” by yearnings for… something else. It’s not particularly helpful to become mired in what isn’t on this journey from where I am to where I will be later on. It’s a bit like trudging through ankle deep sticky mud; it may not stop me from making progress, but it will surely slow that progress considerably more than if I were simply moving forward on my path, step by step, with presence, care, and commitment. “Be here, now” is a powerful recommendation and reliably good starting point for a new beginning. “We become what we practice”, and there is a notable difference between desperate yearnings to become or to transform, and actual practices that result in authentic changes – and real progress toward a goal. Then, too, there’s the goal-less forward momentum of honest self-evaluation, freed from the constraints of the expectations and demands of others – which also grinds to a halt when I find myself mired that sticky mud of yearning to be something or someone else. “Yearning” hasn’t seemed to get me very far in life. It’s a peculiar sort of getting in my own way, by setting up the dream of something better, investing deeply in fantasies of that dream, and then… being frustrated that the dream never comes to life, all without noticing that the time spent dreaming the dream is at the expense of taking any actions to proceed down a path that could actually lead in that direction. Most peculiar. “Yearning” is interesting as verbs go; it seems to prevent actual action. I sip my coffee and consider it further.

…And here I am, at 60, still wondering what I want to be “when I grow up” lol…

I don’t spend much time yearning these days. I don’t want for much. It’s less about “having it all” (hell, right now with no job and limited cash-flow and savings, I’m particularly alert to how finite my resources are), more to do with approaching life from a position of perspective, mindfulness, and sufficiency. It could be so much worse. I’m not yearning for fame or power or wealth. I’m content with living simply, with having enough, and I find adequate joy in the small things that work for me. I’ve got enough bullshit and baggage to work on without creating more headaches for myself by chasing other people’s daydreams for what I could have or who I could be. Yearning doesn’t fit into my day plan. LOL Still… Gnothi seauton. Self-reflection is a worthy endeavor. Getting lost in a labyrinth of yearnings seems less so.

I sip my coffee thinking about “being”. It isn’t always easy facing the woman in the mirror and some of her difficult questions (or painful accusations and burdensome disappointments). Reliably, however, I’ve found it far easier to make progress if I am making where I presently stand (and who I authentically am) as my starting point on any new beginning. Going from “here” to “there” is definitely simpler when I understand where “here” is.

…Funny thing… and a serendipitous coincidence… these themes are deeply explored in the sci-fi “space opera” that my Traveling Partner and I have been enjoying together while we’ve been ill. Babylon 5. Being vs yearning. Power and the consequences of seeking it. The corrupting influence of greed. The importance of love and compassion. Our very human journey of self, over the course of a lifetime. The heroic and the mundane, and this very human journey we call life. I’m sure immersing myself in the skillfully created fictional universe of Babylon 5 has done much to infuse my self-reflection with additional depth… posing new or old questions that very much want to be, if not answered, at least well-considered. So… I consider them. I consider me. I consider this moment in my journey, and where I presently stand with myself. I consider life and love and partnership. I consider what matters most, and how best to serve my mortal purpose.

I consider. I ponder. I muse. I wonder. I sip my coffee and prepare to begin again.