Expertise. It comes with practice, for which time is usually a prerequisite. Other prerequisites include things like access, ability, and understanding. Multiply these factors across all areas of interest, and one quickly finds that the more interests a person has, the harder it is to become an expert in any one area. As the phrase goes, “jack of all trades, master of none”.
As a dabbler, it is unlikely that I will ever have the expertise to participate on the level of the true Experts, which is at times a discouraging thought for me. On the other hand, my life feels empty when I am not doing something. In the past, I have enjoyed engaging in a variety of activities and hobbies. These days, I am finding more nuanced responses–not everything brings me joy. I do not tend to feel rested after crocheting, for example. Instead, I feel as though I have succumbed to tunnel vision for a length of time, and I have never felt good after a period of tunnel vision. Perhaps it is a matter of retaining a specific posture and motion (as well as eye-line) that tires me, or the focus required to resolve issues of missed stitches. Creating music used to feel quite good too, in its own way–most often after I had completed the creation of a new song. Lately, I tend to feel more melancholy after playing music. A happy exception to this is when I am being music socially, such as singing songs for my daughter or playing music with my dad, though these are rare occurrences. No, one of the few things that I have found to bring me consistent joy these days is writing. I feel a sense of satisfaction after completing any project, but most of all writing. I expect this trend will not last forever, and this is key. It is okay to enjoy something and lean into it while it works. Life is always changing; little can be expected to remain stagnant or permanent. I know this well; after all, it is what led me to change professions.
Resetting one’s career in their thirties (or later) brings with it unique challenges. Fresh out of college in my early twenties, I felt green and knew I had a long way to go. It felt right and appropriate. I also had very few responsibilities, and I chose them based on the savings I had accrued from my internships and the salary I knew I would be making right out of the gate. It was the best time in my life to be a complete novice.
Now, I have a family and a mortgage and bills (and now student loans) and so much more. When I left engineering to pursue counseling, we were in a different place financially. It should have been okay for me to reset. A couple of things did not go as planned and the money began drying up faster than expected. The pressure is on for me to be able to provide. Beyond the tangible concerns, there is also the existential experience of having given up what margin of expertise I had acquired in engineering. My heart and my body still believe that I have some expertise, but my mind has to play catch-up because in reality, I am a novice once again.
This dissonance is exacerbated at this particular moment in time because I am in limbo: that quiet stretch of time between graduation and licensure, between holidays and work. I did actually receive my license this morning, which is happy news as it means that I do not have to reschedule all the clients I had planned to see next week. Just another seven days before I can settle into a routine that I can trust and rely on. I look forward to the days when breaks are simply happy respites from a predictable and familiar routine, instead of anomalous voids of time which stand between me and the answers of what to expect my life to look like going forward. I look forward to knowing that each day is a step closer toward expertise.