As July 31st rolls over to August 1st, my life tends to change direction completely. In 1989, just as I was feeling a sense of comfort and achievement in my relatively new career writing software documentation, I packed everything I owned into a 5×10 foot storage shed, sold my car, and started a new life in Japan, bringing only two large suitcases and my 10-year-old son.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In 1991, I reversed the process. But on my return to the US I had no job prospects, and found that it was more difficult than I had imagined to reestablish my identitify with potential employers, car insurance companies, and banks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In 1993, I gave up independent contracting and returned to life as a full-time employee to enjoy the comraderie of teamwork and the benefits of medical insurance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In 1998, JQS moved into the condo that today he is vacating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In 2001, the patterns and habits of eight years dissolved and I had to create new ones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Today, exactly a year later, I feel as if the cards in my life’s deck are being reshuffled and redealt. A new life begins for me tomorrow. And although it is what I’ve always wanted, I’ve learned to be wary of getting exactly what I wish for. Fulfilled desires often bring unexpected consequences. As I cross the line, will I arrive at the point of no return?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Six years have passed and I thought the wheel of my fortune had rusted to a stop from disuse. Slowly, creakily, it begins to turn again. This time I embrace change unreservedly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rereading the original entry, I remember another year that fits this pattern: 1975. My father retired from the USAF and we moved back to Las Vegas from Killeen. I discovered that I was stuck between lives and could move neither forward nor back. So I took the diagonal. Are all detours simply tangents? In taking the detour, doesn’t it becomes part of the pathway through our life?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Balancing on the precipice between here and there. <\/p>\n