ON DATING, JOB HUNTING, AND THE BRAVE GOOD THING

Last year, a friend of mine packed up and moved to a new city which, if you ask me, is already a pretty brave, and very grown-up, thing to do. But as if that wasn’t enough, one of the first things she did when she got there was to start going on dates. Not the kind of date you go on with your long-time-already-love. The kind you go on with somebody you don’t really know yet. The kind you find through the internet, or through a friend of a friend. The kind you have to show up to without knowing how it will turn out. As you might guess, some of those dates were lovely and some were okay and some were not very good at all. But no matter what kind they were, whenever my friend would call me up and talk about her stranger-dates, I never had one drop of advice to give her.

Not. One.

I would listen and say “hmm,” or “what do you like about him?” or “I am so sorry, dear. People can be jerks sometimes.” But the truth is that all of those lines were shots in the dark, because actually I cannot sympathize with my friend at all. Every part of going on dates with strangers sounds stressful to me, and not at all like something a sane person would do voluntarily. Or at least not this person. Not me. Social conventions confuse me, sentimentality annoys me, I don’t like crowded noisy places, and I am only just now barely learning how to make small talk. Barely. I am fundamentally not stranger-date material. So whenever my friend talked about her dating life, I would listen and try hard to ask questions and pretend like I understood. And then I would hang up the phone and shake my head, and say a silent prayer that maybe God would give her other, more helpful people to listen to her troubles.

But then, a thing happened. I finished grad school, and I moved cities again, and I had to start applying for jobs very quickly because grad school costs a lot of money and I was about to run out of it. And it turns out, the process of applying for jobs is a little bit like the process of going on dates with strangers. Except maybe without some of the flirting and sexual tension. Thank God for little favors, am I right?

But seriously. You guys. Job-hunting is KIND OF HARD. Every time you put in an application, you spend time and energy to make a good impression on people you might never see again. You don’t get that time back. You spend it, on the chance that something good will come. You try hard all the way, every time, even if this thing might not work out, and you always feel like you are not doing enough. You write a million essays about what valuable skills and experience you bring to this position, and answer a lot of interview questions about why you are the one for this job, when actually you’re not even sure that you are the one. In fact, now that you’ve opened your mouth, you’re increasingly sure that you are NOT the one, and probably they can find someone better, so if it’s okay you’ll just see yourself out.

But you don’t say that, because you are trying very hard to look like a grown-up. So you answer the questions, and pray hard for the best.

That is what job-searching is like. That, and filling out a lot of forms that you expect will take twenty minutes and actually take four hours.

Now if you are an optimist, you might be thinking that the end of this story is how I had a change of heart when I realized how wholesome and fun job-searching actually is, and now I heartily enjoy both that and dating also. Welcome to the whole new me.

Except, that is not so.

I’m sorry. I did not learn to enjoy job-searching. I found a job, and I like my job, and I am pretty much 100% happy that the searching part is over.

But now, from the comfortable point of view of a stable job, I’ll admit that the searching is maybe a little bit wholesome.

Maybe.

It is maybe wholesome to practice showing up fully for a thing without knowing how it will turn out. Because, when I stop and think about it, that is how LIFE works.

LIFE is an exercise in showing up without knowing how it will turn out.

Every day. We wake up and we show up and we try, and sometimes we fail. It’s exhausting to think about, actually. I don’t know how we’ve made it this far.

Because God doesn’t give us itineraries, you know?

Projects and visions and life in general—these things don’t come with formulas or guarantees. One writing career, wild success included! One business start-up, 100% guaranteed to prosper within 12 months and also change the world. One romantic relationship: total happiness or your money and your youth back.

It doesn’t really work that way.

We don’t get promises of success. We just get chances. We get oxygen in our lungs, and ideas in our heads, and the chance to do the next brave good thing. Life is built from a million brave good things. The next application. The next interview. The next date or the next audition or the next sales pitch or the next conversation. A lifetime-long series of chances to show up for the thing that might not work out.

So, friend, when all the risk feels a little overwhelming and a little exhausting, please listen to me when I tell you: GOOD FREAKING JOB.

This living thing is a tough gig. Keep it up. You don’t have to have it figured out. You can’t. You cannot guarantee this thing you are doing will work. It might not. But you will be okay. So please, for your sake and for mine and for the sake of this whole world of people facing the chance to do their own next brave good things, KEEP SHOWING UP. Keep doing the thing. Keep filling out the applications. Keep making the art. Keep going on the dates, even, if that’s your style. Afterward you can let me know how they are, and I will try my best to say sympathetic things, and one day if I decide to throw personality and caution to the wind and do the dates myself, maybe I will talk to you in return.

Maybe.

But that is a long time off, and there are a lot of brave, good things to do between now and then. So if it’s okay with you, I’m going to get busy, and let you do the same.

I believe in us.

#relationships #jobs #adulting #risk #work