In the semi darkness as I rocked laddu to sleep, my mind played back a phone conversation from earlier in the day. “Do you plan to go back to work?” asked a friend. “Probably. Just not sure when” I answered then. The conversation shifted to other things but I kept revisiting my answer that just popped out when asked. Truth is, I had not given conscious thought to it. Sure! it has been on my mind in a vague, impersonal way. But I kept skirting the edges refusing to accord it time and thought. Until today.
As I went through the day, I looked back on my life and realized that for most part, I have not actively worked towards building a career. Working was something I did motivated by different things at different points. When I first started, it was independence. Personal. Financial. Work was my social life.
Post marriage, it was just getting back in the playing field. I shifted gears, moved from IT to customer service. The money was secondary. It was about striking out on my own. It broadened my horizons and gave me an appreciation for the different culture of which I was now part. I changed gears yet again working at a data center doing a mind numbing repetitive task each day based on files that came in. It took me out of direct customer service and exposed me to corporate America. The cogs that turned the wheels.
Fast forward a few years, work was a distraction from the main thing that took hold of my body and mind. Babies. I worked because I had nothing else to do. I worked so I could feel like I was doing something with my life.
Then the babies came and with them a goal post. Providing for them. Everything newer and bigger. Work I did till the goal became a sign post on a way to a different destination.
Now, caught in a lull I realize there was never one destination. It has always been a journey. One that is in flux. At the moment, there is nothing calling out to me. But it will as life speeds on. Uncertainty works just fine now.