climbing from a tree

There is pride to be stifled in the job hunt. I am not above Smoothie King, at least not in Logan, UT. Among the pros of the list is that a hat is not required. This giant Mecham head has never looked too graceful in a hat. Another is that I can work a blender, quite adeptly, I might add. This has happened to me at least 7 times this summer. I picture myself in a job when I find out they're hiring, and then before I even interview, they say "Oh we've got all the help we need right now, but we're always accepting applications," as though there is a secret code I could write on my application that would cause them to fire another employee and roll out the red carpet for me.

Motivation and ego shrink back symbiotically, flinching at shadows of rejection that once revealed, turn out to be a ball thrown between two kids at the park. It never hits. It never hurts. But it deceptively threatens. And the unknown ties me up to a tree like a pinata, swaying in the wind, my eyes clenched tight awaiting a fatal blow.

My great great uncle, Lowell Bennion, did and said a lot of really admirable things. I've been reading a book about him. He describes his family by saying "We were creative and energetic and innovative and unafraid of life--all of us!" It is statements like this that make me believe that maybe it's in my blood to be brave. He seems to be saying "Come down from that tree. The ground needs you. You can leave your ego, but bring your heart and walk. Smoothie King needs you. Okay, maybe they don't, but somebody does." Thanks, Uncle Lowell.