Like everyone else fortunate to have a steady paycheck that allows them to shelter-in-place this last year and a half, I’ve been doing an internal assessment of sorts. If I define success on my own terms, what does it look like? How do I define myself outside of my job? If I step to the side of expectations and let them pass me by, what would my life look like? What would make me feel like a whole person, rather than an entity doing a specific job? Even if that job is “rocket scientist” – on a day-to-day level, I was not valuing the person, only the ability to do a job that by its very nature doesn’t have measurable benchmarks. Furthermore, my particular niche within the world of rocket science tends to be invisible – the less others notice big problems and focus on smaller complaints, the better I am doing my job.
Who am I trying to prove anything to anymore? I know my own value; I am good at my job, but I am not just the job.
It has been one year since I went part-time at work. Since I have allowed myself to define who I am in other ways. Amazing as the identity of rocket scientist is, it ultimately became a cage. It turns out that I am many things: I am an artist. I am a storyteller. I am a mother. I am disabled. I am a good and loyal friend. I am an explorer. I continue to create a safe haven for my loved ones in a time of turmoil and despair. I have the spirit of a pagan inside the soul of a scientist.
Once upon a time I was going to use this blog as part of my science storytelling. Before the day-to-day grind of my job consumed me and I lost joy in what I did. Now I’m going to try to find that joy again, and start telling stories once more.
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