It’s Tuesday morning, May 14, 2024, and I am struggling. My mom would ask why I’m sharing my private issues publicly. It’s because I am human and it’s the truth. How can I be authentic if I can’t tell you what I am feeling so deeply? So what am I struggling with, you ask? Normally, I find the silver lining in life, but right now, I see dark clouds forming around me. The flicker of lightning, once distant, now looms closer, with the thunder's murmur turning into a deafening roar. A few raindrops have hit my forehead, and everything around me signals a torrential storm of life preparing to flood my existence with anxiety.
Many from my generation have survived two major economic crises—the 2009-2010 recession and the COVID-19 pandemic that shut down my privately held small business. I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do. Last week, I applied to over 62 positions, reformatting and customizing my resume to highlight the skills of my vast work history, aligning it with the job postings. Yet, I’ve received zero responses. For the past year, I’ve fostered my professional brand and increased my network by creating compelling content that quietly speaks of my past successes and encourages others to never give up. But when my phone rings, it’s someone trying to sell me solar panels, not someone wanting to discuss my application. The emails I receive, both on LinkedIn and personally, are from those wanting to sell me leads or services, not job offers. Applying to 62 positions last week is nothing new; it has been my routine for the past year.
So what do I do to motivate others when today I can’t even motivate myself? I don’t know! But today, as I feel that storm coming, I am grabbing my rubber boots and umbrella. I’m going to tell myself that after the storm, we see clear skies. I will remind myself that I may bend but never break. I will tell you that I’m not sure if this will work, but I’m going out into the metaphorical thunderstorm to dance in the rain, look at the sky, reflect on my journey, and remember that after the last storm, I saw fields of flowers growing everywhere. It will happen again. I will not allow the flash flood to sweep me away or take me under. I will survive, and so will you.
As you read this, I say to you, “I will work for food.” Am I serious? Partially, yes.
We all face our storms, but it’s how we choose to navigate them that defines us. Sometimes, you have to embrace the storm, dance in the rain, and trust that the flowers will bloom again. Stay strong, stay hopeful, and keep dancing.
Thanks for reading,
William Rochelle, but you can call me Bill
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