Mice, a Cold, and a Job

Pest or guide?

The score –
Animal guides and body: 5;
ego and “discipline”: 0.

Doing this Connect2Self work is my calling. But I cannot resist applying when I come across a job at an university that teaches contemplation and mindfulness. 90% of the work is really appealing. 10% of it, well, makes me a little woozy.

In my career counselor’s mind, 90% is pretty good. “Let’s see what wants to happen,” I quote from an inspiring book. I coach people to find jobs, it should be a piece of cake for me to get in the game. I sit with a laptop in the TV room downstairs, chewing my lips and updating my resume and reference list.

Two hours later, I realize that job search has gotten way too complicated in cyberspace. Pasting work experiences to a database takes time. I switch back and forth between the uploading and the job description. Am I sure about working 4-days a week? I’d meet professors, thought leaders in the field of my interest. I’d have colleagues, whom I miss from a previous post in higher ed. Yes, I am sure.

I write the cover letter and find it hard to overwhelm the search committee with 120% enthusiasm. The 10% woozy irks me. My stomach feels bloated. I ignore it because I am disciplined and a conscious decision maker. I surround myself with the energy that I am already working there, opening young minds and teaching how to articulate experiential learning.

But am I giving up my vocation to work for someone else? I want to help people the way I see fit. I have my dream job: writing a memoir, giving and teaching Reiki, studying astrology…the next phase of rolling out integrated programs and services is percolating in my head. I have yet to see my work and energy come to fruition.

Is it about the money? Money is a consideration. In my building stage, money has not flowed fully. Perhaps it’s intentional. I have shunned devoting time to marketing since May. However, money buys books, computers, treats at Zoe Ma Ma. Money pays bills. It has a presence in my consciousness. Add that to an interesting work environment…okay, here’s why I am applying for the job on Hour 3.

Then it happens. In the corner of my eye, a black dot darts from the hallway near me and disappears under the couch I am on. It is June 30, warm and toasty, a wonderful time for mice outdoors. Why is the rodent in my house? I grew up hearing stories of my father blasting rats in the house with an air gun. Supposedly the creatures were large enough to drag the diaper pail across a room. My Ba hated mice and rats. I inherited the disdain.

When I posted on Facebook about moths, raccoon, and bats in my house, a few intuitives had urged me to ask the meaning of these visits.

So what is the meaning of the mouse’s presence? I run up to my study for a reference book.

“Focus on the details. Attention to the little things will lead to bigger opportunities. Do not allow your attention to be distracted.” ~Ted Andrews, Animal-Speak Pocket Guide

Resonates. I have been tweaking details to the wazoo for this job application, and I welcome the bigger opportunity it brings.

The next day, I receive an invite for a phone interview. I schedule it on July 5, five days after seeing the first mouse (which was trapped). That night, the second mouse appears in my son’s room then runs downstairs by the living room. Another trap is set.

I go out for errands the next afternoon. As I walk to my car, I sneeze non-stop and my nose runs like a faucet. It is just allergy, I tell myself. Comes July 4, I wake up weak and goopy -signs of a cold, not allergies. Not a fun day to be sick (is there ever a good day?). I manage to drag around a local festival and peddle a boat, feeling out of it and surreal.

Where am I really going?

For a few days, Second Mouse eats Skippy peanut butter off the traps and lives. My friend Melanie, a shaman, suggests I meditate on the mouse. Maybe it’s about focusing too much on details, she writes. I table that task until after the interview.

July 5th. I put on a nice dress, as if I were going to an in-person interview, and talk into my earphone for half a hour. I think I did well but at the end of the day, the search committee thanks me for applying. But no thanks on the next round. Something inside me goes, whew.

I asked my intuition about the mice visits, it comes: Do not to give up the big picture (my calling) even when the ego and the feeling of lack beckons. My guides and my body know this job is not for me. My brain does not.

My cold goes away that night. The mouse is caught the next morning. No more mouse visits since.

I am guided to do my job, not a job. I am completed humbled.