2020 has been… just… wow. I honestly feel like it was written by the team at Riverdale. We had murder hornets, a pandemic, riots, city curfews, people in masks, wildfires, hurricanes – what didn't happen? As we head into the holiday season it's usually a time to reflect on things you're grateful for and be selfless and give gifts, but I feel like I'm dragging so hard over this finish line, I just want to make it.
I mean I 100% do have a lot to be grateful for this Thanksgiving – I got a new job (yas!); for the first time since college, I had time to reflect and take time off to read, write, and contemplate my life; my family is healthy; I'm healthy; I have a super comfortable home and great husband to share it with; my Nespresso machine purchased last spring was the best purchase of my life; I have great friends who helped connect me to job opportunities while I was looking; Taco Bell launched their grilled cheese burrito this year.
There's a lot.
But I felt coming into Thanksgiving week, I should make time to especially thank The Magic Priest.
Who is he, you ask?
Well, before quitting my job at the startup in July, I had a lot of concerns. These were not helped by my mother who essentially guaranteed life-long poverty and ruin if I quit a job without another job lined up. But I knew I had to leave or I would go insane – it was a trade off. I did a lot of thinking and rumination and decided that I had to go. Even if I had to get part-time work or contract work, I needed something different. Life-long poverty and ruin was a risk I was willing to take in July of 2020.
I got myself amped up and put in my resignation. 51% of me knew it was the right decision but the other 49% was wondering if it would be years before I'd find work again.
So, I literally logged off my resignation call, put my computer to sleep and then stared into space.
"Did I do the right thing?"
My question was immediately answered when I opened Instagram .3 seconds later (because what else do you do in a moment of existential crisis?) and the first post on my feed was The Magic Priest.
The Magic Priest is someone I went to college with. We were in the same dorm and spoke roughly 4 times. He was valedictorian and went into the priesthood (… I mean obviously). I started following him because he was in my Instagram discovery feed and would give 0:20 second homilies. This was very cool and safe spiritually (seeing as the church has trounced on my soul multiple times – that's a whole different blog post), so I very much enjoyed his words of wisdom.
I got goosebumps when his post appeared and his very first words and the title of the video were: "Don't be afraid."
It's not a joke. Not even a typical Tedd-Hawks-Blog-Style exaggeration. It literally happened. My mood immediately skyrocketed as I took this as a cosmic confirmation that I had done the right thing.
This was further compounded that same day by a bird pooping on me on my way to dinner (a definitive symbol of good luck).
The universe was very much okay and encouraging of my chosen sabbatical.
The Magic Priest has shown up multiple times for me over the past 3 months. When I needed support or felt discouraged, he was there in my feed with his earnest advice.
I don't talk it about it a lot, but I often feel confused, isolated, and insane writing my books in coffee shops around the city. Like – who will read them? Why do I bother? There's a lot of ups and downs and really no one to talk to. This fall while I was doing more writing and further planning the launch of my third book while getting consistent rejection from both literary agents and jobs, this feeling of mental instability … well, let's say it wasn't helped.
But Magic Priest was there with his brief homilies which included titles like:
Turn Fear into Excitement
Painful but Necessary
Just Do Something
Most of my Instagram feed is friends, humor, or really attractive people, so someone posting about the real highs and lows of life is both encouraging and refreshing. As much as I enjoy watching attractive men work out or friends' children, The Magic Priest has become a crucial part of my social media perusal.
I felt like I gave a little bit back last month. The Magic Priest posted about how he didn't feel like his posts always connected, but he pushed on and posted to encourage others. I messaged him immediately and was like "MAGIC PRIEST I NEED YOU – KEEP CALM AND CARRY EVEN IF IT'S FOR MY SAKE ONLY!"
[This did lead to a very awkward exchange as MP felt obligated to respond to me because he's a kind and wonderful priest, and I felt obligated to respond to him because he's a kind and wonderful priest. We all know these conversations:
Hello! I am well. And how are you?
I am well and good. It is good to know you are well.
Thank you! It is also good to know you are well as well.
Good! How about this virus situation? It is frustrating, is it not?
Yes. It is frustrating! It is a crazy virus.
…And so on…]
I don't know if it did make him feel encouraged, but we one can hope. The biggest fear is I left him feeling uncomfortable from our awkward exchange.
I think also, on a larger level, the experience with The Magic Priest reminded me that sharing your ideas and thoughts, even if it feels like screaming into the dark, can have an important impact on others. It's a perspective that helps when I sit down and type paragraphs from the inside of my head in coffee shops around the city. A lot of people may not read the words, but one who does may find them enjoyable..
So with that I say thank you again to The Magic Priest.
If 0:20 homilies are your thing, you can follow him here. …Just don't tell him I sent you or we could spiral once again.
[Hello! Thank you for telling people to follow me.
Yes. I am glad they have followed you.
It is good that they have followed me.
This virus continues to be crazy, does it not?
And so on… ]