Beyond the Linear Narrative: Finding Gratitude in Equilibrium

When I left my last professional role in September 2024, I operated under the assumption that the next step would follow a predictable cadence. I did not anticipate a fourteen-month hiatus. I did not anticipate sleeping on the couches of various friends starting in June. And I certainly did not anticipate the rigorous, exhausting work required to learn a new kind of intimacy.

The past year has been a slow, excruciating ego death. Like many who migrate to large cities, I had constructed my identity around my career. My sense of self-worth was not derived from the work I was actually doing, but from the external validation of being employed by a specific caliber of organization. The last fourteen months violently disrupted that maladaptive mindset. It was painful, it was terrifying, and I am profoundly grateful for it.

For over three years, I lived alone, insulated in a bubble of self-sufficiency. I had forgotten how much you learn about humanity simply by inhabiting the same space as others during the low-stakes quiet of leisure time. Without this period of couch-surfing I don't think I would have opened myself to the possibility of a relationship that goes beyond the superficial, for all the drawbacks it forced me out of the isolation I would often retreat to despite keeping a full social calendar. Now, I find myself being considered for a collar. This step, a deepening of submission and devotion, feels like a vital milestone in my journey as a leatherboy, one I never would have reached had I stayed safe in my fortress of solitude.

This week, the professional drought broke. I received two job offers and am entering the final round for a third. Throughout this process, the most vital piece of advice I received was a challenge to the way we tell our stories: communication is about information sharing, not just chronology.

We often get trapped in a linear narrative of our lives. We feel compelled to recount every step in order, as if life is a straight line from problem to solution. But I realized I don't have to justify the gap. Instead, I spoke about what I loved in my career and how that passion informs my future. The same applies to life’s curveballs. I am learning to embrace a "999 ethos" by flipping the negative on its head to see the positive. When we look beyond the linear story, we stop running from problem to problem and start seeing challenges as opportunities to locate our blessings.

This Thanksgiving, I am grounded in gratitude for where I am and who surrounds me. I am grateful for the imminent return to the workforce. But even more so, I am grateful for the financial, emotional, and mental safety net my friends and family provided. Without them, I could easily have been trapped in the familiar, inescapable cycle of poverty.

This week was not entirely triumphant, even with the verbal job offers. The universe tends toward equilibrium; fortune is rarely unmixed. I am currently awaiting news on my 79-year-old father, who has been hospitalized. I haven't seen him since I surprised him with a visit last Thanksgiving. Then I broke the screen of my cellphone a couple hours later in a mundane fall and had to ask for additional financial assistance to afford it's repair. Additionally, I am holding space for friends grieving the loss of their pets. I bore witness to the raw sorrow of 18-year bonds coming to an end as my friend Mike said goodbye to Whitie; I hear my friend Sally's cat Smokie right now crying in the hallway as it's been a little over a week since they had to say goodbye to his sister Sophie.

There is immense emotional tension in the air, both internal and external, as the holidays descend. But I am grateful for the friction, too. These setbacks serve as a necessary reminder: just because things are falling into place does not mean the work is done. It does not mean I can gamble away my fortune. Challenges remain ever-present.

So, before I turn this reflection into a metaphysical treatise, I am heading out to prepare a Thanksgiving meal with the people who matter. I am stepping out of the linear narrative and into the moment, exactly where I am meant to be.