My Wrinkle In Time

Yesterday, an hour was stolen from my life. Aliens didn’t abduct me and perform a time warp, nor did I turn a Time-Turner the wrong way. Simply, there was a power outage, and having no flashlight other than my dying cell phone, I was left to sit on my couch and contemplate all the things I could have done, if there was a current zapping through my wires.

I could have read a book, prepped my curriculum, vacuumed the living room (for the third time that day!), organized a closet, done some laundry, write a blog post, and of course possibly save the world from stupid people.

In all honesty, I probably wouldn’t have done anything significant that hour. Maybe surf the net, schmooze with my Rabbi, complain how bored I was, doze in an out (I was lying on the couch lightly napping when the power went out), but really, nothing to claim that hour as my own.

When the choice however was taken from me, without so much a nod in my direction, all of the potential comes to light, and I feel robbed. When I frit away hours doing Jack Schmidt, I may chastise myself later, but it was my choice, and there’s no one to blame but me. However, when something unceremoniously is taken from my grasp, without any concern for my consent, I will cry foul

“FOUL!”

Where Responsibility Ends

I was lamenting over lost opportunities, or in better words, I screwed up royally because I waited too long. (Basically, I waited too long to get back to someone about a job offer, because I was waiting for a response from someone else, the latter didn’t pan out and when I contacted the former, she already filled the position, so I still have two other job offers, but they weren’t what I was hoping for)

My husband said it was meant to be. What’s that supposed to mean, that I didn’t screw up, it just feels like it did?

He elaborated that, no it wasn’t meant to be, and I just had to experience the frustration and feelings of despair and that my current circumstances were how it was meant to be all along

If I had just been offered the jobs I accepted in the ends I would have been thrilled, ecstatic, and proud of being offered such a position, but because I was tempted with more, I now look at my current position as settling, that I could have been more. Which is such a shame, because it’s really a great job.

I feel the frustration, the feeling of something being yanked out of my hand because I turned my head for but a moment. Now what, I feel the agony, what do I do with it now, or was that just it. That was the punishment, and I can put this mess behind me, or am I supposed to take this further? How?

And back to “meant to be”. Somehow, I think taking that stance absolves a person of responsibility. If something happens, for better or worse, there is no accountability, just  chalk it up to G-d.

I know this is where the whole hishtadlus concept comes into play, but no one has ever been able to give me an adequate answer where hishtadlus ended and bitachon started.

Where do you draw the line in these murky gray waters? In which way do you swing your counterbalance in this tight rope?

Do you believe, or accept mistakes as own.