The Gift of the Wilderness
Continuing my search for vocational clarity...
For Context: I have been living in the “vocational wilderness”, after a rough year with a series of three, short-lived, systemically toxic jobs. I’ve been pretty much unemployed for the past five months, besides doing some freelance digital marketing for a dear friend’s real estate business.
I have clung to the phrase, “vocational wilderness” during this phase of my life, as if it is a place that is new to me, but I am not new here. Not new at ALL.
What am I supposed to do, what am I supposed to be, where am I supposed to fit, has been a burdensome companion in my life, as long as I can remember.
I have had a few times of “vocational clarity” in my life, but as I look back on them, they felt sociologically forced, self-convinced, a result of me listening to shoulds rather than my own desires. Which, I have self-compassion for, because shoulds have been far easier to access than the elusive “internal vocational clarity”.
A blaring example of this was my decision to become a nurse after my first year of college. I was good with people, I had an intense, Mennonite-upbringing-induced heart for service, I was competent, I liked helping people in vulnerable moments, and I had a role model: my dad was an RN for my entire life, and I have unending admiration for him. So many people told me that I would be a great nurse. I also was single all of high school and all of college, and assumed I’d probably be single my entire life, so I wanted a job that would allow me to be independently financially stable. As a young woman, it felt like being a teacher or a nurse were the two easiest and natural paths I could take. I liked the hands-on nature of nursing, so I chose it. I think at the time, I would have said I felt “called” to nursing, but in hindsight, I think it was because it was the closest I could find to something I thought I could do.
I fought my hate and lack of natural interest or curiosity of Anatomy and Physiology, Pharmacology, math, and biology during nursing school, and hung my heart on the fact that I could endure this academic torture to come out with a JOB, a PLACE, a TITLE, a PAYCHECK, and a vocational HOME.
Long story short, although I was good at being a nurse, nursing just wasn’t the right fit for my soft and creative heart. It has been a point of shame and confusion for me for many years. I am grateful for the skills that my few years of being a nurse gave me. Nursing helped me pay off my student loans and a solid financial start in adulthood. It is part of who I am and what I bring with me, wherever I go. I still keep up my RN license, which just means I have to do some CEU’s every other summer, which is do-able. I am grateful for the relationships and experiences nursing school and my time as a nurse gave to me, but it wasn’t the right home for me. I never found my peace or rhythm or balance with the harshness of the medical system/field.
Upon taking the leap to leave the nursing world, I worked in Mennonite non-profits for the next 10 years. Which, I loved, but “The Church” is struggling, and will beg you to give all that you can give, and in my boundary-less youth, I did. Freely, dutifully. And I burnt right out after 10 years of finding my identity and worth in my work and giving it my all.
…
And now—after becoming disillusioned by all of my potential vocational ideas: nursing, higher-ed, non-profit, therapy, hospice, customer service—I am here. Right here. Realizing that maybe I don’t, or can’t, fit into these systems. Realizing that maybe I have to make my own path, make my own vocational home, since I can’t seem to fit into any others without sacrificing my soul. I know that sounds dramatic (!!!!), and I know I am in a place of privilege to even be able to care about my “vocational calling.” I’ve tried not caring, and it has not worked out for me. I’ve tried shoving myself into jobs that are not the right fit, and I shrivel. It feels like there is something to be said about trying to find work after burnout, while having lack of vocational clarity. An exhausting state of being.
Over the past 5 months, I have done a lot of energy-restoration work, as well as some idea-distillation work. When I first let myself dream of being my own boss, I had a list of 25+ ideas of things I’d like to do to!!! I love swimming around in the creative idea stage—letting my idealizing mind run wild, imagining the beauty, the juice, the possibility of what could be!! That is where I feel most at home, the dreaming stage. However, somewhat reluctantly, I’ve moved on from the dreaming stage, to the oh-shit-I-have-bills, I-need-money, are-any-of-these-ideas-realistic stage. And, to my reluctant delight, I have found creativity in this new stage, too!
Through a process of elimination and many other factors, I finally committed to an idea to put effort into birthing. Even though this job is of my own creation, I STILL do not have a deep sense of vocational clarity! It is more of a feeling of, okay, I think I could do this, I think that would be satisfying work, and mainly: it allows me to work with my hands and my heart. Which has been my favorite part of many of my past jobs.
I’ve spent the past few months figuring out how to build a website, what to charge, how to advertise, how to do business accounting, what is SEO, etc. Like I said, I still do not have clarity—I don’t know if this is the best use of my gifts or if it will be deeply fulfilling or if it will even succeed— but I do have momentum and excitement around it, now that I have some of the hardest parts figured out.
Starting my own business, when I look at it romantically, is one of the truest forms of creativity. Creating something out of nothing. Translating the idealized idea in your mind into a website and services. Searching for the right vocabulary words to best distill your idea to a stranger or create your “elevator pitch.” Literally building a home for your heart and energy and skills to live and grow and be offered to the world.
And when I don’t look at it romantically, it looks like capitalism, like trying to find a way to exploit my energy and service skills for a price high enough to pay my own bills. It looks like scary things like 40% taxes and business insurances and learning what “tax write offs” mean. Small business stuff is still a system, I still have to play the game, I am still not free, I don’t want to have to care about profit or payments or cancellation policies. But, here we are. There seem to be trade offs for being your own boss, and I’m willing to play with them for now. I’m open to the journey. What the hell. Let’s give it a shot.
I say all this to say, once again:
I really thought, given the time and the space (which I have had for the past 5 months), I would be able to find my vocational clarity.
And I haven’t! At least not yet.
But, I guess what I have found, so far, are new skills. New forms of creativity. A love of improv sewing, which has blossomed with my daily practice. An interest in making essence quilts. A rhythm of sitting down to write and a platform on which to share it—which I have always wanted to do!! I’ve learned how to create in Canva and make real estate videos in CapCut. I’ve nurtured a daily love of trash walks and simple living on a limited budget. I’ve learned how to make a website (!!!!), how to get an EIN, how to “start a business”, and other scary business-y things. I’ve had time to visit quilt guilds , maintain a plot at the community garden, host friends, support my partner Ross (in every sense except financially lol) and spend time helping out on my family’s farm.
And now, as my start as a creative “entrepreneur” (weird to identify with this word!??) comes closer, my search for clarity continues. I am curious what this new business will teach me about my vocation, about myself, about expectations, about just about owning a small business. Will I like this?? Can I do this?? I haven’t found my clarity, but I have found new creative skills, spaciousness, and simplicity.
The gift of the wilderness so far has been space.
Space to try,
space to write,
space to read,
space to sew,
space to rest,
space to learn,
space to create,
space to take a leap.
And, I am grateful. So grateful for the space, even if it hasn’t come with clarity!
So, here we go!
That’s all for now. Thank you so much for reading and following along. We will see what the next few weeks bring!!!
With love,
Kate
So, so, so relatable to me, Kate. You are not alone out there in this world... dealing with these systems just isn't for all of us, and finding our place can feel really impossible. I hope that you find something in this new endeavor that really clicks. Your warmth is palpable in your marketing photo - what a great portrait!
Also, is it too stereotypical and reductive of me to have said 'Oh, Mennonite... well that explains the quilting and those banging handicraft skills!" I need to know honestly. My extended family is from Western PA... we would often take Sunday drives out to Amish and Mennonite communities because my family loved their pies and pretzels and quilts!! And seeing their barns and homemade clothing, I've always been incredibly impressed with their skills, and their ability to continue to place such high value in acquiring those skills!
Vocational Clarity...the eternal conundrum for so many travelers on life's highway. Lots of opportunities for life lessons should open up as you explore this new pathway. Congratulations!