I’m trying to find a way to be happy that is compartmentalized, common, and oh. so. safe.

I begin to miss the days when what I did seemed challenging. I tried to run towards the next place at a break-neck pace and found myself what I thought was a transitional place.

I’m standing on a bridge that suddenly ended. I’m not at the end, but I can see it. I’m not running anymore. I feel like I should run to the end, but then what do I do there? I don’t want to stop. I guess I’m supposed to slow down, stop, and keep building it. I’m inching along, but I want to run.

I could jump at the end.

I thought someone would understand rather than telling me, “Of course it ended, it wasn’t going to go on forever.” They wave the five-year plan at me as if this wasn’t my plan when I started building. They say it as if five years starts right now instead of at the beginning of the bridge years ago. Then, were they saying five? Now they’re saying ten as if it’s nothing.

If I jump off the bridge, it’ll be cold and scary, but I can learn to swim or I’ll die trying.

I’m trying to find a way to be happy that fits in a world that I don’t understand. I’m good at the motions and I can rehearse the dance, but I’m still not a successful drone. I can’t seem to accept what others have accepted. I can’t sit still. My path forward ends.

Jump, I’ll learn to swim. I don’t need footholds, warmth, and land, or do I?

Standing and swaying on the bridge I built, all of my hard work. If it doesn’t go anywhere, does it mean anything? Many will tell you it’s the journey that matters, but a dead-end bridge is useless, pointless, and dangerous.

I could start over. I could build a new bridge: gather the materials, plan it out, and start anew. Maybe then I could map my destination in a more meaningful way. Maybe I won’t get lost this time. How many bridges have I started, and where am I even trying to go? Trying not to fall in isn’t answer enough. My head is more than above water, and I want something more.

I read somewhere recently, “Sitting in offices, doing work that has no meaning is the quickest way to become profoundly unhappy.” Is that what I’m doing? My job does have meaning, surely. Just like most jobs I’ve had, at their core I am helping people. What do you do? I help people. I help people using my skills and talents. That has meaning.

The motions repeat, and still I feel like there should be more. This section of the bridge feels so much like the last.

I lay down some more planks and inch forward. The bridge is solid. I become a better builder every bit I finish. I just wish I knew where I was going.