Momentum.

Momentum…

Something I’ve noticed about myself is the importance of momentum.

Balls in the air.

Irons in the fire.

When I was a teenager, I always needed to have tickets to an upcoming concert. If I didn’t have a show at The Capitol Theatre in Passaic or Garden States Arts Center to look forward to, I began to doubt the worth of my entire future.

What was it? Was it the tangible vs the intangible? Most likely. I could look at those paper tickets on my corkboard, knowing every morning I was one step closer to the Thompson Twins. Or Adam Ant. Or Eurythmics. Or even U2 in their early days.

Before I was old enough for concerts, I used to fill out magazine subscription cards with fictitious addresses I thought I might have one day. The state was usually Montana or Wyoming-even though to this day I’ve never been to either one of those states.

I also pictured myself as only domestic. No job other than taking care of the kids and cooking. And a clothesline. I always envisioned a clothesline and clothespins. Even though I never had one of those either.

(I use clothespins currently to keep bags of potato chips closed. So many bags of potato chips.)

The past few weeks, I’ve had so many balls in the air. So many irons in the fire. So many proverbial “tickets of possibility” on my corkboard.

One ball actually slam dunked into the basket and that was exciting! (I’ll let you in on that one soon)

But a really big ball didn’t make it. It was a steady job that I was really hoping would work out. It would’ve been a great fit. All my strengths rolled up into a steady paycheck plus what I imagined would’ve been really enjoyable work!

But I didn’t get it. I don’t cry real tears too often. But this time I did. Like a big pathetic baby. I could barely let my husband comfort me in my disappointment. And as much as I appreciate his ever-present shoulders, I needed to cry this one out. I was a monster for the next day and a half. At least.

And the few friends I had told gave me permission to wallow. They told me good things are around the corner. They told me eat, drink, and pop a Xanax if needed. Life is hard right now.

But for every day I wake up healthy, housed, and well-fed…half-eaten pumpkin pie, I’m looking at you…I throw more balls up in the air.

Momentum. Sometimes we lose it. And that’s ok.