The Holy Days are nearly upon us and last year at this season I anticipated myself living an independent life by the start of 5773. I keep thinking about what the Holy Days mean to me this year and the answer changes daily. This morning my thought is that my chief prayer should be for strength and patience. On self-pitying days, Psalm 13 seems very resonant. On my better days I'm able to be with the exuberant hopefulness of Psalm 118 and rejoice in the holiness of the present moment. There are definitely successes, joys and blessings within this tough, often depressing, situation.
Below is a piece I submitted to the Washington Post's "Apartment Hunter" column. The column features individuals looking for rental space writing about their process, their expectations, their frustrations, the way they adapt dream to reality. The Post wasn't interested but who needs them when I have you, my own massive blog readership?
I submit for your reading pleasure . . .
If you were to glance at the desktop background on my laptop, you would take in the postcard-scenic view from my former balcony: autumnally-colored trees, beautifully landscaped community grounds, a shimmering pond, all set off by the Boise foothills. I loved my light and airy townhouse (on the Boise River, 7 minutes from downtown/12 by bike trail, “never-lock-the-door” safe, 1100 square feet, attached 2-car garage). I tried not to share the monthly rent with locals, as the $930 per month I was paying by the end of my tenure was considered shockingly exorbitant. I loved the natural beauty and outdoor-orientation of Idaho, my home of 18 years. I loved raising my daughters in a small, idyllic city, loved the down-to-earth people, loved the general ease of life. But as it is with the human spirit, visions and dreams of what could be so often breed real-life dissatisfaction. My days of intensive childrearing were about to reach an end and all this was simply not enough.
I was a divorced rabbi living in an environment that couldn’t offer me key components of what my soul needed to thrive personally or professionally. So in March, my baby poised to graduate from Boise High, I pulled my Subaru wagon out of the driveway, my dutiful younger brother following behind in a 17’ U-Haul crammed full of my possessions, and drove 2500 miles to Montgomery County, Maryland to become a statistic.
According to a Post article, “Between 2007 and 2010, the number of adult children who resided in their parents’ households increased by 1.2 million (Most of those, the Census notes, were between 25 and 34.).” Message to parents: don’t get complacent just because your daughter/son has moved past the young adult demographic. You still may join the ranks of those like my own mom and dad, their 51-year-old daughter now occupying their spare bedroom.
The particular details of my life may be somewhat unique (okay, very unique) but I believe I represent a larger phenomenon: mid-life moms who, having sacrificed personal career ambitions for parenting responsibilities, now seek to use our energy and professional education and experience to take on the world. So here I am, World, rearing to go! Except that I'm still not even close to full employment. Or to occupying my own living space.
Although my entire extended family currently resides in Montgomery County, we all started our lives’ journeys in the greater New York area. So at least I’m not sleeping in the same room where once hung my fuzzy blacklight posters and Playbills for The Forum and Pippin. Somehow, returning to my childhood home would feel far more depressing. Although I am (when not in my newly established rotation of local coffee shops) revising resumes and cover letters on the same desk in which I carved my initials during the Carter administration.
Without an actual income, it might seem silly to be looking for a rental space. I like to say that it’s for pragmatic reasons: when I am fully employed I won’t have sufficient time to search for an apartment. But the process cuts far deeper than prudent time management. Apartment hunting represents my personal leap of faith. I look, prematurely, for my own space in order to convince myself that the world will indeed come to see me as relevant: that even after five months of somewhat steady employment rejection, an organization or institution in this youth-oriented society will acknowledge that wisdom gleaned from decades of life experience and a varied work history is valuable. For me, the hunt for a rental unit is all about hope.
My dear friends: a 5773 of hope, fulfillment and peace.
Love,
Laura
No comments:
Post a Comment