A Praradigm Shift

Gaining the Perspective 

Life has a funny way of changing trajectories without you almost even noticing. So much has happened to me in the past few months after "losing" my job at a lawn mower factory. I could have cried about it. I could have taken time to find another hourly position. 

I knew I couldn’t do it again. I can’t get behind something I haven’t truly put my all into. 

I can’t see myself doing the same menial task over and over just to support some giant conglomerate built on ideas that maybe once had meaning, but now feel disconnected and empty. 

I don’t know—maybe for some it works, but I need more to my life than punching a clock and moving stuff around on a forklift all day long. So all of these small things that are adding up seem to be leading me into my new life. 

The Slow Decline 

Again, my life has taken another shift. I moved in with my mother after my last bad breakup with my ex. This was right as COVID was hitting. Around that same time, my mother had a minor stroke. 

It was so minor, in fact, that she wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t gone to the eye doctor the following week. 

As time progressed seemingly at a slow pace, her health has begun to deteriorate. Not in a shocking way—but gradually, with a few ER trips and a surgery along the way. 

Flash forward six years, and now that slow pace—or at least what felt like a slow pace—has reared its ugly head. Almost as if age was hiding in the shadows and now is making itself known. 

Love, Dread, and the Fear of What’s Coming 

I can say that someone came into my life who has shown me what true love really means. I’ve had so many moments of dread, wondering how I’m going to be able to handle all of this when it comes to a head.  

I hate putting it into words. Maybe I avoid talking about the inevitable because I don’t want to rush the universe—or put energy into the idea of my elderly mother passing. 

On the surface, it doesn’t feel that way. But the details show other signs. 

Don’t get me wrong. My mom is still running strong, but I have to embrace the future and I will always be there for here when she needs me.

In the end, the universe is just that—the universe. Nothing fully understood, yet something we all pretend to have the answers to. Either way you look at it Jenn came into my life and I don’t feel alone anymore. 

Living with Jenn and Redefining "Home" 

So now I’m sitting here, typing away at this blog, in Jenn’s apartment—well, more like our apartment now. She had just removed a toxic figure from her life and was finally rebuilding the life she always wanted. 

I will do everything I can to help her gain her life back. After all, I want that for her. I want it for myself too. 

I had a full-time job—now I’m unemployed, and the clock ticks louder every day to get my business flowing. I went from living in a large, newly remodeled home to a small, outdated apartment outside the city—but there’s something charming and welcoming here. 

It’s a step down from the home I was living in—but in a way, it’s a huge step forward. I never felt at home in my house. 

Funny, considering that house has been in the family for a very long time. At least 50 years, if I had to guess. 

The challenges I see ahead, I welcome. I can feel a shift, and life is changing again. 

Is it what I envisioned? I honestly don’t know. I think my vision might be blurred by preconceived notions I’ve inherited from other people’s perspectives. 

But at the same time, this is exactly where I need to be in life right now. 

Trusting the Unknown 

After all, we don’t know shit about the universe—so how could we have it all figured out? 

We can only ride what’s given. Appreciate what we have the ability to understand in this world, and be grateful for both the positive and the negative things that happen in our lifetime on this planet. 

Although in many ways this shift may feel blind to the naked eye, but my gut says this is the way my life is supposed to go. So in a way, within my heart, this next shift is far from being blind. 

The world itself can blind you if you look too hard. Sometimes it’s better not to look at all—and just trust your intuition.