Moving Forward?
My life has gotten somewhat stagnant. For the past four years I’ve been in a rut, and each of these years seems to be just a carbon copy of the last. The same thing. Rinse and repeat. I feel stuck. I feel stagnant.
I know where I’d like to go and what I’d like to do, but I’m stuck. I don’t know how to move forward.
Ten years ago, I left a 20 year career as an art teacher in public schools to pursue my own thing. I was getting offers and opportunities to travel and teach that conflicted with my school schedule, and you can only go to administrators requesting time off so many times. Besides teaching in a public school classroom had become tedious, and I had stopped enjoying it long ago. So, I left.
I began building something over the first few years. I was traveling and teaching all over the country, and I had some incredible opportunities like teaching for a week on Maui. But then covid hit, and the pandemic shut down everything. The momentum that I had built came to a screeching halt. I pivoted to virtual opportunities like so many and managed to get by. As the world began to open back up, however, those opportunities began to dry up, and the in-person opportunities that I had before the pandemic never came back. All of the progress and all of the strides that I had made were wiped out.
I floundered because I didn’t have the energy or the gumption to start all over and rebuild.
Along the way I had stumbled into a couple of part time gigs that gave me stability and helped pay the bills but left little time and little energy to build something new. And I became stuck doing the same thing over and over and wishing for something different. Waiting for the universe to cut me some slack and bring me a break.
I’m still waiting. I’m still stuck.
I know where I want to go. I know what I want to do, but I don’t see a clear path forward. I just can’t build the momentum to get there. When I set out to be an art teacher all of those years ago, there was a clear path—go to college, get a teaching degree, and apply for jobs until you get one. That’s what I did, but now I don’t know how to proceed. I don’t know how to move forward.
And that’s where I find myself—stuck and stagnant waiting for something. It’s the not knowing that’s the hardest. I don’t know what action to take next, and even if I did, I don’t know if I have the time or the energy to take it.
Sorry for the rambling and ranting. It’s just what’s on my mind this week. If you’ve made it this far, thanks for the indulgence.
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Happy Creating!
Eric
I relate to this so much. It’s hard to explain to people how much the pandemic disrupted the trajectory I was on. I was scheduled to go teach in Australia and that was cancelled, my art was selling in galleries and I was gaining momentum from exhibitions and a museum fellowship. The pandemic was layered over a health crisis and a lengthy divorce that left me deep in debt. The first year of teaching online when I had to pivot was great-then the steady decline and the on location opportunities are not the same as they were. Now I work ten times as hard at getting traction with the teaching to support myself and my own art life feels like it’s gone by the wayside.
And now I’m rambling just to say I get it. And also, I love the art you included in this post.
Getting unstuck isn’t easy. Pa Chodron has a nice book about the topic. If we were sitting having a tea or coffee, I’d ask you if what you wanted before the pandemic was still what you wanted or has that changed? I might wonder if in looking for a path you might be missing a first step or a new view? And, because I always nag myself this way, I’d wonder if I was carrying any resentment or annoyance about being derailed? Resentment is excellent at holding us in place. Then I’d stop and wish courage and hope I hadn’t annoyed you!