finding joy and letting it go

Last year, walking away from stage managing was one of the hardest things I had ever done.

Ever.

It’s right up there with my divorce, that’s how much I love stage managing.  But I had to say goodbye.

I willingly walked away. Stage managing isn’t a reliable source of income. With My Littles to feed and house, I need a reliable source of income. So, I found a “normal” job.

This autumn, the opportunity to stage manage presented itself.  Before I accepted the gig, My Littles and I talked about it. We determined we would try it.  It was only six weeks, we can do anything for six weeks.

The show went up, ran, and closed.

For six weeks I was spread super thin. Leaving the house at 7 am and getting home after midnight, most days driving an hour between jobs to spend 20 minutes with My Littles.

It was hard.

Lots of fast food, no laundry, no quiet time.

Very little time with My Littles, my family, my guy.

When I walked away from stage management last year, I had thought part of intense sadness was that I wouldn’t see my friends.  I had made some wonderful close friends when I stage managed.  Going back, none of them were part of this production.  Yeah, I missed them, but I realized that my love of stage managing had nothing to do with those particular people.

I still love stage managing.

I had missed it so much.

So very much.

Way more than I thought I had.

Stepping back into that role made me realize exactly how much I missed it.

It was crazy stressful.

And I loved it.

My heart was full of joy.

Stage managing fills me with joy.

This should be the point where I say I’m going to follow my heart and figure out a way to keep that joy in my life.

But it’s not.  

Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve got responsibilities, three of them. 

My Littles.

Their happiness is much, much more important to me than my joy. 

They need me to be in their lives daily. 

The need me working a reliable job.

It’s what’s best for them.

And they come first.

Always.

They always come first.

This is not the first time that I’ve found joy.

This is not the first time I’ve let go of a joy because they come first, and it won’t be the last.

Experiencing tiny bits of joy is totally worth the hurt of letting them go.

I willingly, happily, choose to let go.

I happily choose to stay here. 

I happily choose to work a “normal” job. 

I happily choose to do what is best for them. 

Happily.

I never want them to think they’re holding me back from my joy.

They are my joy.

They hold my heart.

They will always be my Littles, long after they’re taller than me.

Always.

But,

the smallest Little will graduate high school in seven years.

So,  

In seven years, I’ll follow my joy.

In seven years, I’ll knock on doors and see who answers.

In seven years, I’ll pack my things and go.

Somewhere.

Until then,

I’ll kiss them goodnight

I’ll help with homework,

I’ll be here, exactly where they need me.

Happily.