I’ve had some long days in my life, but I must say that the 24-hour period from 10:30AM on Saturday to 10:30AM this morning is one for the record books. It’s one of those stories that’s dying to be told… so without further ado….
The following takes place between 10:30AM and12:00AM on the final day of the 2009 NCTM National Meeting and Exposition. (blip.. bleep.. blip.. bleep)
At 10:30AM I walked out of my last session of the NCTM Conference in Washington, DC, and I felt my spirits sink. I had been looking forward to the trip for weeks, and the last three days had been blissful. I dawdled before walking out of the convention center, unwilling to admit it was over. When I actually walked out the door, I teared up a little.
Because the weather was beautiful and I was in no hurry, I decided to walk the 1.5 miles back to the hotel instead of taking the shuttle. I spent the walk thinking over the trip, and at first my sadness was replaced with a deep sense of gratitude to my bosses for sending me to the conference. I learned so much and grew so much professionally -- even now when I think about it, I am certain that taking the job I have now is one of the best decisions I ever made.
Still, by the end of the walk, my emotions had shifted yet again, and I was unsettled. My time in Washington DC had been a series of time warps for me, really. As I walked along the reflecting pool in front of the Lincoln Memorial, I was transported back to my senior year of college, when I had walked along that pool with my best friend – one of the last moments we spent together before a lot of fighting and a kind of letting go that would change our relationship forever. As I played Mancala with my coworker, I was transported back to my childhood, when I played the same game with my cousins using pennies and egg cartons – a common pastime at a summer cottage that was an oasis for me for years. When I looked upon the steps of the Capitol, I was transported back to my senior year of high school, when I sat on those same steps with the other members of my engineering team after winning the trip to DC. And when I wandered down to the Watergate hotel on my own, I was transported back to my time abroad, when traveling alone went from being something I feared to something I enjoyed. For some reason, my three days in DC reminded me a lot of the times in my life when I was happiest and most satisfied.
When I contrasted all those times with what I felt as I left the convention center, I recognized some differences. Although I was happy and grateful now, I was somehow not satisfied. I knew I deserved to go to the conference, but I also knew I hadn’t really worked for it the way I’ve worked for other rewards in my life – like the trip my engineering team won to DC, or conquering my fears of being alone like I did in Sweden. I have proven myself in my work. My colleagues and even my superiors respect me. I’m good at my job. That’s all great, but it occurred to me by the end of my walk that I haven’t felt challenged – really challenged – in a long time. I needed a new challenge.
You’ll be happy to know that the philosophical part of the day was over. The thought made me tired as I reclaimed my bags from the hotel. As I sighed I remembered how badly my throat hurt, and I stuffed a handful of hard candy from the hotel front desk in my carry-on bag. I tried to put the lack of challenge thought out of my mind. It’s ironic, really, that I had been thinking I wasn’t challenged enough, because the series of events that followed challenged every aspect of my self control and psyche.
It’s late, so I’m calling intermission. I’ll post the rest of the story tomorrow. Try to stand the suspense.
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