After a couple of years of agonizing over if and when my job was finally going to run out, fretting over the possibility of losing my livelihood, when it finally did happen, I felt like I had been set free. Even strangely peaceful about it.
For reasons known only to him, the man who had been my boss for seven years and my friend for many more, seemed to be killing off his own business, client by client. The consulting business he nurtured for twenty-plus years, had been dying a slow and painful death, mainly due to inattention on his part, and all I could do was watch in agony and try to hang on as long as possible. Because of my “maturity,” finding a new job was sure to prove difficult, and quite frankly, I had had enough of major changes in my life, and was hoping I would not have to make any more, thank you very much.
Inevitably, however, that day came. According to him the money was running out. Painstakingly, we arrived at a drop-dead date to end my employment and agreed that I would apply for unemployment benefits. While our agreement was that technically I would still be employed until the following month, I persuaded him to allow me to leave early, and promised I would be available on an as-needed basis. OK, probably not at all. Dragging out the pain of separation was not fun for either of us. And being a firm believer that when a door closes, a window opens, I needed to embrace the situation and move on to something new.
As might be expected, I woke early that first morning of my reluctant unemployment, with much on my mind. Wanting to get busy with my list for the day, I went to turn on my computer so I could get started when I heard loud fluttering, like the wings of a trapped bird. I quickly turned on the bedroom lamp and looked up with my bleary, sleep-filled eyes to see something on the wall above my head. Since I did not have on my glasses yet, at first glance it appeared to be a bat, no a bird, no.....
Suddenly I realized it was a huge, golden moth - variety as yet unknown - flapping away, clinging tenaciously to the wall near the ceiling - much like I had been clinging to my dead-end job. It had to have measured more than six or eight inches across its spectacular wings! Startled, I jumped backwards and my mind raced. What to do, what to do....
I sprinted to the bathroom and grabbed the small trash container from under the sink and rushed back to the bedroom. Stealthily, I crept up onto the bed and gingerly placed the can over the bird-sized moth, not wanting to cause it any injury, muttering to the giant insect and myself. Next, I reached down with my other hand and picked up one of the decorative pillows scattered beneath me and slipped it over the top of the can. Voila! Canned moth.
It struggled to get out as I stepped down from the bed and took the imprisoned moth to the balcony, lifted the pillow and watched as it immediately took flight to the waiting branches of the crepe myrtle tree. Then I closed the door.
How did this handsome oversized creature make its way into my house?
That's not hard to imagine because I frequently leave my bedroom’s balcony door open to enjoy the breeze and to hear my wind chimes hung there. The moth probably flew in whilst I slept.
But why that day of all days? Over thinking the situation as I am wont to do, I wondered if it was a metaphor for what was going on in my life. Or if it was prophetic or symbolic.
Regardless of any real or imagined philosophical significance, it was a heck of a way to start the day. And of course, I still ponder the event. One thing was immediately clear. A door had closed for me, but like the moth, after the struggle, I realized I was free.
For reasons known only to him, the man who had been my boss for seven years and my friend for many more, seemed to be killing off his own business, client by client. The consulting business he nurtured for twenty-plus years, had been dying a slow and painful death, mainly due to inattention on his part, and all I could do was watch in agony and try to hang on as long as possible. Because of my “maturity,” finding a new job was sure to prove difficult, and quite frankly, I had had enough of major changes in my life, and was hoping I would not have to make any more, thank you very much.
Inevitably, however, that day came. According to him the money was running out. Painstakingly, we arrived at a drop-dead date to end my employment and agreed that I would apply for unemployment benefits. While our agreement was that technically I would still be employed until the following month, I persuaded him to allow me to leave early, and promised I would be available on an as-needed basis. OK, probably not at all. Dragging out the pain of separation was not fun for either of us. And being a firm believer that when a door closes, a window opens, I needed to embrace the situation and move on to something new.
As might be expected, I woke early that first morning of my reluctant unemployment, with much on my mind. Wanting to get busy with my list for the day, I went to turn on my computer so I could get started when I heard loud fluttering, like the wings of a trapped bird. I quickly turned on the bedroom lamp and looked up with my bleary, sleep-filled eyes to see something on the wall above my head. Since I did not have on my glasses yet, at first glance it appeared to be a bat, no a bird, no.....
Suddenly I realized it was a huge, golden moth - variety as yet unknown - flapping away, clinging tenaciously to the wall near the ceiling - much like I had been clinging to my dead-end job. It had to have measured more than six or eight inches across its spectacular wings! Startled, I jumped backwards and my mind raced. What to do, what to do....
I sprinted to the bathroom and grabbed the small trash container from under the sink and rushed back to the bedroom. Stealthily, I crept up onto the bed and gingerly placed the can over the bird-sized moth, not wanting to cause it any injury, muttering to the giant insect and myself. Next, I reached down with my other hand and picked up one of the decorative pillows scattered beneath me and slipped it over the top of the can. Voila! Canned moth.
It struggled to get out as I stepped down from the bed and took the imprisoned moth to the balcony, lifted the pillow and watched as it immediately took flight to the waiting branches of the crepe myrtle tree. Then I closed the door.
How did this handsome oversized creature make its way into my house?
That's not hard to imagine because I frequently leave my bedroom’s balcony door open to enjoy the breeze and to hear my wind chimes hung there. The moth probably flew in whilst I slept.
But why that day of all days? Over thinking the situation as I am wont to do, I wondered if it was a metaphor for what was going on in my life. Or if it was prophetic or symbolic.
Regardless of any real or imagined philosophical significance, it was a heck of a way to start the day. And of course, I still ponder the event. One thing was immediately clear. A door had closed for me, but like the moth, after the struggle, I realized I was free.
