I just finished my job.
And I breathe a breath of fresh confusion.
I'm feeling relieved and grateful, but also exhausted. I'm feeling accomplished and satisfied, while simultaneously sensing that I didn't do enough. I'm feeling eager and excited to move towards the pursuit of my dreams and start graduate school, and yet there's also a keen sense of loss of the identity that I have formed around my work over the past four years. Is this the push-pull of the elusive work-life identity struggle?
For four years I have been a caregiver in some all-encompassing capacity. First for my own child, and then adding two women with developmental disabilities with whom we shared a lovely home and all the complexities of life. And then I slowly started collecting caregivers who needed support and encouragement. And then another child. And for one wild, brief, chaotic, moment --I tried to be a super-hero caregiver for my clients, my children, and a couple of other caregivers. I discovered I wasn't Wonder Woman. Without having any notable support or space for myself, I found myself drowning in the bottomless ocean of giving care.
So I drafted a proposal to develop a caregiver support program (because I needed support).
It was approved!
I took a couple of steps back before I began moving forward again. The heat of burnout was hot in my face, and I desperately had to start saying no. In order to do that I needed to implement boundaries. Not as a way to keep others distant - but as a way to authentically care for myself. In order to care for myself, I had to know what I wanted and needed.
So, after my daughter was born, we moved out of Shared Living. I set my own work hours, goals, and limits, and I respected them. I asked for help, and hired a part-time nanny. I did the very best that I could, and then told myself that it was enough. I showed up to meetings with my whole self, and brought all my ideas and passion. I dreamed up a vision of what a community of healthy caregivers could look like and committed to developing and modeling those practices in my own life. I listened and learned and initiated collaborations. I soon began attracting incredible people with amazing capacity to contribute to a vibrant new culture. But what has been most surprising of all is: I set out to change the caregiver culture in our organization, but ended up primarily succeeding in changing myself.
This is the type of work without intrinsic camaraderie or accolades and the culture is not easily changed. Everyone has their own agendas. There is a web of interdependent and discombobulated checks and balances. There isn't ever enough of anything or anyone. It's similar to the culture that can be found in; parenting, teaching, education, public service, non-profits, care-giving, ministry, social work ---all the black hole arenas of giving that offer little in return. It's the work that is mundane, chaotic, and never ending. The work that is based on survival and fueled by crisis. The "work" that will eat you alive and spit you out if you let it. The giving isn't ever enough, the crises are a constant, gratitude is scarce, and you are rarely given the satisfaction of finishing well.
So yes, today, all of that is still true as I hit "send" on my final email. The broader work culture didn't change. But I did.
My job is now done, my program has been handed off, my goodbyes and thank you's have been spoken and written. And here I am. I didn't drown this time. I pinch myself to make sure. I find that I have learned how to float with a full heart and great confidence in my spirit. Buoyed by boundaries, and leveling my limits. This ending actually feels really good. I did what I could, when I could and preserved some space for the places that really matter to me.
Of course it's my hope to have sparked a lasting difference, but that is beyond my control. Even if my program is redeveloped or thrown out the window, or proven to be insufficient - my deepest satisfaction is not in what I have or have not done - but in who I am becoming through this whole process.
For those lessons of becoming more of my true self: I am grateful.
Another deep breath, and slowly letting go.
This time full of satisfaction.
