Being furloughed can be emotional all on its own. But, without a light at the end of the furlough tunnel, it can be a rollercoaster of emotions. As I have shared with you I have been furloughed from my job. This ‘unprecedented time’ in my life has been filled with ups and downs (p.s. are we done with the word unprecedented yet?) and yesterday was a down of all downs.
While states are looking to reopen and people are looking at what their business models look like in a COVID19 world, higher cleaning standards, limited capacity, and operations, etc. I am still waiting for the batphone to ring saying I’m being called off the bench and coach is putting me in!
The phone isn’t ringing, that’s the thing. Every day I wake up with optimism that maybe today is the day! Or if I go for a long walk and think positive thoughts and try my hand at manifesting maybe I will have missed the call and can come home to a voicemail saying “Put on your work clothes kiddo, we are back!”
See the problem with furlough, minus the not working part and the money stressors, is that you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I was explaining this to my Dad when we were on a kayak this week. Aside from ignoring a ‘high wind advisory’ this was one of the toughest kayaks of my life. Dad and I have been doing kayaks of the Florida springs for years now and I’ve done as much as maybe 11-13ish mile kayaks, some up a current that would make you want to give up. Yesterday was not only the hardest kayak physically but emotionally.
We went to DeLeon Spring to kayak. It’s one of my favorites as it’s so peaceful and thankfully lacks twisty turn curves. It has this cute old sugar mill right at the start of the springs with large oak trees and hanging Spanish moss; you would assume you were in Alabama with a sweet tea and a rocking chair!
As usual, the kayak was filled with conversations about work, past projects, different issues we had dealt with, and more. On the water, Dad and I can talk about our frustrations and help each other figure out the best way to work through them. All while we look around for any potential gator sightings! The only problem with the kayak was the lack of mile markers telling you how far you had gone or how far you had left back to the drop-in.
Just as we turned yet another bend that looked like we were almost finished I explained to my Dad that not having a mile marker to see how far we had left to go was exactly what it felt like to be on furlough. I know we will go back to work one day, and it’s ok that I have to wait, but can you tell me how much longer I have to wait? Can I have one of those rip away calendars where every morning I pop out of bed, rip off a piece of paper and see that I only have 14 more days to go? Seeing a light at the end of the tunnel would provide peace of mind, clarity, and calm my anxiety.
Of course right as I was explaining this a really large alligator rushed the water next to us and we walked on water trying to get away. As we were paddling away from danger my own words started to sink in, deeper and deeper into my psyche. “I want to see the light at the end of the tunnel.” I wasn’t just talking about the kayak anymore, I was talking about my furlough.
Surely because Mother Earth, the Universe, herself was listening a gust of wind started up again. I was paddling and getting nowhere. Leaning into the wind it started to feel like I was going backward as water splashed everywhere. How I was feeling emotionally was being mirrored back at me, and it was a little too on the nose if you know what I mean. I couldn’t handle all of the emotions that were starting to boil up to the surface and knew I was thisclose to losing it!
I tried to calm down, reminding myself what Glennon Doyle had been preaching to me recently: “We can do hard things.” This became my mantra as I would turn a bend, and not see the finish line. Or when another (yes another!) gator got a little too close for comfort.
“I can do hard things.”
“I am doing hard things.”
I have survived every hard kayak that has pushed me and my forearms to my limits. I have survived every bad day that has ever been laid out in front of me.
I can and have done hard things.
When I turned yet another bend and realized that it was not the end, I fully lost it. My mantra was fading. Paddle down, hands in my face crying, I screamed: “I WANT TO BE DONE!” My Dad knew that while I appeared to be broken down about the kayak that I meant my furlough. He quietly urged that we keep paddling, maybe the next bend was it. Embarrassed that I let my emotions get so intense I took a sip of my water and paddled on.
My dad was right, the next bend was the end. I finally saw the light at the end of the high wind advisory tunnel. It was okay that I still had a bit more go, that my hands were aching and my heart pounding from the gator sightings, I could see it was almost over. I could see the end and it was like every emotion just lifted from my body. I was going to be ok. I did a hard thing and survived it.
While that kayak may be over I’m still doing a hard thing. I’m still furloughed. Every day I look around every corner for that light at the end of the furlough tunnel. Just a flicker is all it would take to calm my mind that I’m almost at the end. But for now, I have to remember, I can do hard things. I do hard things. I have done hard things. But most importantly, I survive hard things.
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