Creation
I suppose it was inevitable that shortly after I announced my return to full-time work, my career as a daily blogger came to an abrupt halt. I had all good intentions of keeping up with it, but a tiny voice in my head told me I didn't have to because things were going back to normal.
At first, my mind was solely focused on preparing to re-enter the work force. I needed to unsubscribe from all of the job-search notifications, de-activate my open resumes, and decide what to wear the first day of work.
Then there was the first day. I felt, in a way, that I was narrating my life much like Genesis. In the beginning, the job front was formless and desolate. Then God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. I went to work, picked up paperwork, got an ID, met with my new boss. There was evening, and there was morning. The first day. Then God separated the sky and the waters. I had projects assigned, had more work than I could finish, and went home to a busy weekend. And there was evening, and there was morning. The second day.
It occurred to me, as I was counting the milestone days, that I really was engaged in a creation process. Each day, I was creating new relationships, routines, and connections that will come to form the world around me for the years to come.
I now have a lengthy tenure of eight days on the job. Our team is complete, with the last of our three communicators joining us today. We have the week mapped out, with jobs assigned to each of us. I've had my first projects come back from the printers and have learned a few things to keep in mind for next time. I've written my first feature article for our fall magazine, and tentatively sent it off today for feedback. The response was positive, which was a great relief to me since I was writing about a person I've never met.
This coming weekend is Labor Day, and I feel like I will be able to look back on my two weeks of creation and pronounce that, "It is good."
At first, my mind was solely focused on preparing to re-enter the work force. I needed to unsubscribe from all of the job-search notifications, de-activate my open resumes, and decide what to wear the first day of work.
Then there was the first day. I felt, in a way, that I was narrating my life much like Genesis. In the beginning, the job front was formless and desolate. Then God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. I went to work, picked up paperwork, got an ID, met with my new boss. There was evening, and there was morning. The first day. Then God separated the sky and the waters. I had projects assigned, had more work than I could finish, and went home to a busy weekend. And there was evening, and there was morning. The second day.
It occurred to me, as I was counting the milestone days, that I really was engaged in a creation process. Each day, I was creating new relationships, routines, and connections that will come to form the world around me for the years to come.
I now have a lengthy tenure of eight days on the job. Our team is complete, with the last of our three communicators joining us today. We have the week mapped out, with jobs assigned to each of us. I've had my first projects come back from the printers and have learned a few things to keep in mind for next time. I've written my first feature article for our fall magazine, and tentatively sent it off today for feedback. The response was positive, which was a great relief to me since I was writing about a person I've never met.
This coming weekend is Labor Day, and I feel like I will be able to look back on my two weeks of creation and pronounce that, "It is good."
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