I look back on my life about 5-6 years ago, when I had reached a really low point, both in my career and in my self-esteem – and I look at where I am now, sitting in a Starbucks on 3rd & 92nd in New York City, and I ask myself, well, how did I get here? Maybe some of you are wondering the same thing. So here’s my attempt to explain it all. Maybe some can find inspiration from it – others might feel as though they can’t relate, but if you decide to read this whole thing, then you’re cool, either way. :)
After having destroyed my rather lucrative career at NAU and reaching what I’d hoped to God at that point was “rock bottom” due to various other complications I’d created for myself, I had to pick myself up, piece by shattered piece, by exploring various options according to my interests (that is, staying true to myself) and delving into whatever seemed to catch my eye that might have promise. I started out by learning about a Jungian-based form of art therapy called “SoulCollage” (http://www.soulcollage.com). I’d bought the book and read it cover to cover, and started to put the lessons into practice (although slowly, because I was still very sick and very tired), eventually creating an ample collection of my own SoulCollage ‘cards’. The author and creator, Seena Frost, had also studied Joseph Campbell (a Hero of mine, pun intended), and incorporated the Power of Myth into her philosophy of how and why this method of therapy works. I got so into it, and dare I say pretty good at it, that when I learned about a weekend summer retreat in the hills of Santa Barbara to learn how to be a SoulCollage Facilitator (i.e. run your own therapy sessions and teach others how to make the cards), I spent literally the last pennies of my bank account on this trip – which turned out to be a wonderfully soul-searching and self-finding trip that I took all by myself, checking in with Gary every now and then, but ultimately being completely on my own for a week.
I discovered Monterey, California – the prime location for whale-watching trips, and had quite a mystical experience with the sea animals out there. It was as if they were communicating with me, directly. Perhaps I was desperate for some type of otherworldly tap on the shoulder, and just created this weird idea in my empty heart, but there were other outside factors, such as the Biologists on the boat (who’d been hosting the tour for 8 years at that point) literally jumping up and down and shouting “Oh my God! Oh my God!” because the animals themselves – especially the dolphins – were jumping up and down around our boat. OUR boat. Not the half-dozen or so other tour boats scattered in various positions around us, but OUR boat. Later on, I learned from a lady at one of the Chambers of Commerce farther down along the shore (somewhere near Hearst Castle, I think) that the very trip I’d taken had been publicized later that day on the local news. So I decided to take it personally. And this really helped – because I felt like I’d completely unmade myself and was just taking up space on this planet at that point, and the outlook on my future seemed black. Not just dark, or even bleak, but black. Those silly dolphins, curious greys, and nosy humpbacks made me feel special, somehow. They were my new Jungian archetypes. My new Myth.
During that same trip, I also found myself lost in the middle of San Francisco due to a reckless, devil-may-care decision to just drive my little rental car north from Monterey one late afternoon to see where it takes me. That was an interesting test of my will to survive! Not much of a city person, I thought I’d find a hotel easily enough, somewhere downtown. Well, one that I could afford, anyway… Nope. The hotel chains are near the airport, miles away from the center of the city, as Gary pointed out after I called him in a panic at around midnight, rolling precariously through the Tenderloin district and seeing things that I’d never seen before, but didn’t exactly want to stop and gawk at, either. I think it was then that I realized I began to feel some pang of self-preservation, at least enough to not want to end up mugged and knifed in a back alley in San Francisco (although I’m sure my fears were probably a bit exaggerated at that point).
So after I returned from the SoulCollage retreat (and subsequent “finding of myself” adventure along the California coast), I decided to just look for a job. Any job. I didn’t feel as though I could find another job doing what I was doing at NAU, both because my skill set and abilities as a Creative Technical Designer had suffered degradation over time, and because, well, it’s Flagstaff. So I applied at W. L. Gore and bugged them until they finally agreed to interview me, and the next thing I knew, I was hired on as a manufacturing operator (official title: “Medical Device Assembler”) on their 2nd shift – from 2:15-10:15 pm. This worked out great, as I was still a bit physically, mentally, and emotionally drained from the previous couple of years at NAU, and still needed to sleep in – a lot – before I could get out of bed and be functional for any length of time.
After a while, I was able to get myself back into a healthy state of being, and when an opportunity to transfer to 1st shift came along, I grabbed it. Suddenly I was getting off work by 2:30 pm every day, and found myself getting a little bored with all the extra time I seemed to have leftover before the end of the day. So I signed up for a summer art class – Drawing I – and surprised myself at how well I was doing in it. The next thing I knew, I was taking Drawing II, and considering what might be needed to get a 2nd degree in Graphic Design, or something related to what I’d been doing at NAU, but hadn’t had any official training for. So by the beginning of the Fall semester, I’d worked out a flexible schedule at Gore that allowed me to take 2 classes, and I began following an academic plan to eventually obtain a B.A. in Graphic Design by the end of 2013 – taking a 'reasonable' 2 classes per semester.
I don’t really know how it happened, but I ended up going back to school full time, as I’d figured out how to select the specific classes that I’d need during certain times they were offered, which also allowed me to not have to change my work schedule too drastically. One thing led to another, and as I took more and more Graphics classes, I kept eyeing the Electronic Media and Film students with pea-green envy. I’d always kind of admired the job of the “video guys” when I worked in the Marketing department at Gore a while back, so I thought, well, heck – I’m going back to school to learn how to do something new anyway, why NOT learn how to do that thing I’m always jealous of? So I switched my major to EMF and started taking those classes full time. That’s when everything seemed to fall into place.
Working with an amazing crew for the 73-hour Film Festival contest, and subsequently WINNING first place in the contest, is what really etched the program in stone for me. Well, that and the fact that I simply found myself oozing with excitement and delight every time I went on a film shoot with a group of people – for whatever or whose-ever project… and then I took an editing class. That was it -- I'd found my niche.
So working full time and going to school full time kept me crazy busy and was extremely tiring, for sure, but the school part was so enjoyable (most of the time) that it just didn’t seem like work. Except when I came home exhausted from a 16-20 hour day and had to get up and be at work by 5 or 6 am the next morning. But I got used to that. I can adapt. I’m a Pisces, you know. With a bad moon rising.
A far cry from only recently having to sleep in every day and dredge up the energy just to fall out of bed, put clothes on, and go to work for the day.
So to shorten this up a little (ha!), I worked, saved, worked, worked, and worked some more… and I saved, saved, saved. And that’s how I can afford to quit my job and do this internship now. For a little while, anyway. It’s turning out to be more expensive than what I’d planned on, what with all the extra little things here and there that add up quickly (like shipping a 45 pound computer for 3-day delivery), but you have to invest in something in order to get a return. Or as I’ve mentioned to several people now – if it’s not scary, then there’s no risk involved. And without risk, there can be no reward.
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