I decided to go easy on myself for the first two weeks living in New York. I unpacked our belongings, ordered items that we needed on almost a daily basis, and shed some tears on what I thought was my early retirement from the career I loved. You see, this was the deal I had made with myself based on advice from my beloved. “Give yourself some time,” he said. “Start with two weeks.”
And so, two weeks flew by, and I started applying for residencies and jobs. It is a rarity when I hear back from someone, and I’ve only received rejections so far. To be honest, I’m no stranger to rejections, but it can sting, and even more so when you are feeling particularly vulnerable. Giving it time makes complete sense. Of course, things don’t happen magically overnight. But, when you are 56, you must strike while the iron is still lukewarm. And so I’m striking and so far mostly only hearing the sound of crickets. Recently I had a video chat with a dear friend who has known me since I started coloring my hair for fun – not just to cover grays. She reminded me that it took some time when I moved to Chicago and then to Boulder, and now I just have to give it time here. She’s right.
Nearly every morning, I open the blinds and look out into the city, and I utter these words “You’re not gonna break me today.” Silly, really, but I do. Today, however, as I was walking Sami, I had a clear realization that whipped me as hard as the wind was blowing onto my face, and this is what I thought “You, Cindy Brandle, you are not gonna break me today.”
Here is my plan. Instead of looking out of the window, I’ve decided to look at myself. Face my face in the mirror and declare that I am the master of my fate. I’m starting with the girl in the mirror. I think I’ll give it a couple more weeks.