As many of you know, I’ve been working on a coffee shop lately.  Yes, on.  Not at.  The short story is that this brand new shop that I am to work at is taking a long time to complete, so I was put to work with three Ecuadorian men, tools and table saws that total more than a year’s rent, and an ungodly amount of primer.  Lots of primer.  Too much primer!

With that said, you might be wondering where I am going with all of this.  Well, it’s a good thing I’ve had a lot of time to think while painting all those rooms by myself, because it’s led me to want to hash out, write about, and make the time to be honest with myself and with others.

I feel there is a misconception about my life that I seamlessly float about from one dashing adventure to another.  People tell me, “Good for you!” and, “That’s so exciting!” but what you must understand is that this entry on honesty is less about the fancy champagne that we use to toast to new jobs and experiences and seasons of life and more about the humongous slice of humble pie that no one actually likes.

Beware.  Facebook and Instagram are only good for broadcasting the highs.

Anyway, since I am being honest with myself, the truth of the matter is that I feel utterly unqualified and incompetent for an overwhelming majority of things that I do, particularly when there are power tools involved.  Working beside three professionals in an entirely new field plus a lot of time to contemplate your inferior status will do that to you.  Furthermore, working at the amateur level for the past eleven jobs/gigs that I’ve now had since I moved to the city in 2011 will also do that to you.  Still, I can’t help but feel that I am doing something right.  That although it often seems as if I am getting nowhere in life, there’s a part of me, deep down inside, that relates me to the little ant from Aesop’s fable  and assures me that somewhere for some unspecified time to come, there are things of worth and eternal matter being stored for me.

So while the leaves are yet on their braches and while I gear up for another transition, another job (#12!), another year in the city (#3!), I conclude this piece by being honest with you all.  Facebook and Instagram can broadcast the highs, but they can’t come close to capturing this heart of gratitude, my heart and my appreciation for all of you and every single kind and encouraging word sent my way.

To my mom who has named me her “favorite author ever,” to my brother who stayed up until 3 AM because of time difference to watch my live-streamed performance, to the other brother who left me the sweetest voicemail before my audition, to my friend who emailed me a screenshot of my face from a video I was in because he was so excited to see me dancing again (even if it was only for four seconds!), and to the countless others who continually put things into perspective for me when I become dangerously introspective of my delusional lack of position and influence and direction in life, to you all, I say “thank you.”

Now perhaps this seems premature.  Most people wait until they are on a big fancy stage to give this spiel.  I, on the other hand, I have more jobs on my resume than I have leads in life and an equally pathetic amount of expertise in every possible field out there as I do money in the bank.  I have no titles, no accolades, no fancy commendations in anything, save for the fact that I am loved by people who are wholly invested in this journey with me, come what may.

Here’s to one more honest page in my story; one more honest snapshot in time; and one more honest account of who I am right now on my way to who I am becoming and the village it is necessitating to get me there.

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