Yesterday I attended a project seminar connected with the hospital that funds my program at the Center for the Homeless. I got to wear real professional clothes (ordinarily my work clothes consist of jeans, a crappy T-shirt, and sneakers...great for getting drooled, sneezed, cried, and vomited on, depending on the day) and listen to two overly enthusiastic people hype up project-making for eight and a half hours. I spent most of the day trying very hard to wipe the disgust off my face (after all, these people give the Center the money for my salary) and some of the day actually considering a few projects I've had in mind for the P.E.D.S. program.
P.E.D.S. (pronounced PEEDS) stands for Play, Exploration, and Developmental Support (or, again depending on the day, Poop, Excrement, Doo-doo, and Shit because we change so many diapers containing every variation of those four words). It's the only program of its kind and I saw yesterday my boss-boss Beth's vision for the program.
Over turkey sandwiches (well, she ate egg salad because she's a vegetarian) she told me that she wants boss Meg and I to innovate and create as much as possible because she wants our program to be the number one early intervention program for at-risk kids in the nation. She wants other developing programs to come to us for advice and information. "In two years," she said, "I want you and Meg to be presenting at a national conference."
Now, I had known that she wanted Meg and me to develop the program. I had no idea how awesome it was really going to be. My jaw would have fallen open had it not been full of turkey, and I said, "BETH that would be so COOL!" (Me, behind a lecturn, on a soapbox, in front of hundreds of people? Bring it on.)
And then she said the thing that made my day and jerked me from the depths of despair to the heights of elation (Mom has expressed worry that I do such abrupt emotional turnarounds; well, I'm still getting a therapist and better euphoria than bone-crushing hopelessness): "And then you could write a book. The. P.E.D.S. book."
And I thought, My God, I could. It's not the Pulitzer-winning work of fiction I had always envisioned, but a foot in the door is a foot in the door. There are so many amazing stories, so many difficult stories, so many interesting stories where I work. So I'm going to start keeping a daily journal of my job. I can turn it into essays (which have captivated my writing interest for about a year, although I've done nothing with the inclination). I can get it published. My bosses would stop at nothing to see that it does get published.
Ahhh, now I have a short-term purpose. Which is what has been missing for a long time.
How have I been so ridiculously blessed? I'm doing EXACTLY what I was built to do...for now, anyway. And that's good enough for me. More than good enough.
1 comment:
Do you know how refreshing it is to see someone so happy with what they do, and so fulfilled? Do you know how glad it makes me that that person is you?
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