This afternoon I met my longtime friend Kara for coffee (well, hot tea ’cause we fancy), and we laughed and laughed. Then as the conversation evolved, we dove deep. Kara said, “You’ve obviously chosen to live your life differently. What’s the end goal?” So I talked about my dreams of being a full-time (paid) writer and how I see this period in my life, living with my parents, not working a nine to five, as an investment. “It’s a gamble,” I said, “a bet that if you listen to your gut and follow your heart that things will work out. Of course, I’m not on the other side of that bet, so it’s still just a theory for me.”

I’ve been rolling this conversation around in my head ever since Kara and I said goodbye. Mostly I’ve been thinking about the fact that for every apparent downside to my living with my parents and not having a regular job, there have been just as many upsides. For example, these last two years have given me time to heal both inside and outside. Second, they’ve given me time to study a number of subjects that interest me and I imagine will play a big part in my future. Third, I’ve gotten a ton done with my therapist, work that wouldn’t have happened if I’d 1) had a full-time job or 2) been in a full-time relationship.

This evening I did some body-based exercises intended to highlight the differences between shutting down and opening up (in terms of posture and emotion). Then I worked on my current knitting project–a pot holder–and messed up a couple spots when I went from knitting to purling or vice versa. (Knitting and purling are the two basic stitches in knitting.) Thankfully, I figured out how to fix everything and also how to keep it the problem from happening again. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about contrast, that it’s often useful to know (and feel) the wrong way to stand or knit because then you can better understand the right way. Said differently, when you know what you don’t want, you know what you do want.

Along these lines, I can find gratitude for past failed relationships and even my health challenges, since they’ve created a strong desire for health in all areas of my life. Not that I didn’t want to be healthy before, but having experienced the opposite of health quite vividly a number of times in the past, I know better what I’d like my life and health to look and feel like in the future. Now I have a clearly picture of what it is I’m aiming for–er, I’m betting–where it is I’m going. And to be clear, I hate that, that sometimes you have to go down before you can go up.

In one of my very first blog posts (#4), I told a story about Joseph Campbell that’s worth repeating. He said there was a five-year period in his life that he just read books. He didn’t have “a real job,” he didn’t really work at all. He just studied. Years later he said he could see that time was absolutely necessary, since it set him up for his later success. I guess my point is that I’d like to do better about appreciating this down time, this contrast, for what it is now. I’d like to recognize it as a time to heal, as preparation, an essential and important chapter in my life story. I know that I often judge importance based on the world’s values of success and money, but having reconnected with my heart and soul in the absence of these things and believing one’s heart and soul are valuable above all else, I believe the world has it backwards.