The Danger of Sand Foundations: Starting Over

The Danger of Sand Foundations

Starting Over

For many of us, we struggle with trying to hold onto old things. It is a part of our human way. Many of us are stubborn and want our way. Yet, there are times when wanting our way costs us our health, money, and ultimately – our pride. This is a lesson I am learning now in the midst of a bunch of reorganization occurring in my personal as well as professional life. Here is the story.

The Houses Built on Sand

I lived in a house that was built on sand. There were many times where I had great success; I got scholarships, good grades, got into a great law school, won awards, and made academic and professional strides well beyond someone of my age normally got.

Notice however what frames this story: glory – pride that never ceased and radiated like the Sun coming over a morning horizon. Yet, I fell for the same cycle of placing myself in peril. I would construct these grand houses of pride, excellence, and opulence on foundations of sand. They stand tall for a time, but with the slightest encroachment of rain or wind, the entire structure comes tumbling. Even without the encroachments, these same structures would sink and subside leading to a less evident destruction. 

The Repeated Subsidence 

Subsidence is defined as "the sudden sinking or gradual downward settling of the ground's surface with little or no horizontal motion." It is common when the soil is unstable and the land above gives way. Comparing it to my life, there have been many points in which the underlying area beneath my accomplishments and successes were plagued with instability. The most recent period of this was in the last couple of years living in Atlanta.  

This last period of subsidence in my life happened because of financial problems, mental disease, health issues, fatigue, and destroyed confidence from poor mentorship and poor self-care. This was evident in how I treated the completion of law school; I did not look at it as a moment of immense celebration – I took it merely as a moment to exhale. That moment was brief, and the bar exam was the next thing of a growing list of things that had to get done and pass. Yet, as I continued onwards to take the bar exam, I was aware of the ongoing issues that I was plagued with internally. Rather than be responsible and addressing them, I dressed them up and acted as though nothing was wrong. 

While studying for the bar, I battled quite a few demons: depression, physical health issues, death, and intense financial hardship. Yet, I acted like those problems were not there. Rather than appropriately address them, I played stoic.

What I learned from making this mistake and dressing up my problems rather than addressing them was that they were set to grow and worsen. Time has a way of either fixing problems or causing the situation to deteriorate further. In this instance, my mental and physical health deteriorated and I was left in a state of shambles. By the time August had rolled around and the Bar was over, I found myself needing to piece myself back together. The grand houses that I built on the sand sank well into the ground below. September into October, my financial situation worsened and the prospect of fixing my problems rested solely on passing the bar exam. 

The Destruction

The day that everything came to an apex was October 26, 2018. The Georgia Bar Examination results were set to be released that morning. I came into work and started my day with a nervousness settling deep within my spirit. Suddenly, the first emails had gone out. People's fates were revealed by a simple ping on a phone or computer. One of my coworkers had gotten his email and within moments was rejoicing. He had passed.

With a weight in my gut that I had never felt before. I went to the bar website (I did not get an email at that point) and logged into the portal. The exam results were posted on my page. I opened them.

My world shattered. My visions of success were tarnished. The world had gone grey. I collapsed into a state of devolution; blubbering and crying with a severity unlike any other felt in my life before. The house of achievement I built upon the sand instantaneously crumbled under its own weight. The deciding factor came as a sudden jolt:

I failed the Bar. It was a matter of nine points that solidified my dreams and affirmed me. Those nine points left me feeling like I was irretrievably broken. I felt my willpower leave me. I remember I left my office in tears hours earlier than anticipated, and I went home and laid on the couch. I said to God. "I have failed to clear the final hurdle after 20 years of pursuing this dream, what are you going to do with me now?"

The Contemplation

It's been a couple weeks since that moment. Every day it hurts less. Yet, the house that stood upon the unstable foundations of sand sits in a state of disrepair. I felt inclined to go back and try to pick up the tattered pieces of my life and my psyche after the Bar exam. The pain, however, is simply too much for me to bear. The only option left is to abandon "the old" and all that comes with it.

When I refer to "the old." I'm referring to frames of thinking that were incongruent with reality. I thought that perfection and doing "the right things" would get me what I wanted. I also believed that If I put 10, 12, or even 16 hours into a day studying and perfecting something, I would be so good at what I'm doing that I would be able to clear the hurdle.

The old way of thinking was self-defeating; whenever I was told I fell short, I would go harder on myself. The old way of thinking destroyed my self-confidence and left me as a hollowed shell. I had the brains, but I had no confidence behind it to demonstrate it was present. The old way of thinking put me out of sync with God. It made me believe that God was complimentary and that he would only allow my dreams to come true if I proved myself worthy to man.

After looking at the mental, emotional, spiritual, and fiscal wreckage left behind by me failing the bar exam and looking at my life critically, I realized that it was time to abandon what was there. What I could salvage of my dignity and my emotions I did. The rest I decided to leave in its place – it is now a monument to building on a poorly chosen foundation.

The Moving

At present, I am in transition. I am still working. I am still paying my bills. And I am still in the process of making things work. However, with less than a month left on my lease, and the prospect of taking the February bar exam as a reality, it has dawned on me that there is a set of reality that comes with me failing the bar.

I got hired 11 days before the bar exam results came out. I was grateful because, after months of looking for permanent employment, I had found it. As a result of my failing, I did not lose my job. But, in a more heartbreaking twist, I have to relinquish it. My schedule at where I took up employment is at odds with allowing me to study again for the exam.

Even if I was able to keep my job on a part-time basis, I have to relinquish my apartment. With a drop in the number of hours worked, it also will cut my salary. So, that means that I would not be able to make enough money to afford all of my expenses.

The final thing I now have to relinquish is my autonomy. In my adult life, I've had the unique privilege as a millennial of living independently. Since I have been 18, I have not regularly lived at home in my mother's house. At 25, I must return home. It is not because of my mother being ill. Nor is it because of the fact that the family needed me to come back. It is because of money, opportunities, and dignity have disappeared. I am thankful and grateful, however, because some people do not have parents or a home to return to. When the bottom falls out for some of these people, they have to figure it out with no support.

In a way, it sucks that I have to relinquish the dream of living well and primed for better in Atlanta for the foreseeable future. Yet, I am glad I had the chance to get as close to it as possible. In the meantime, I need to return back to a place where sand foundations are a rarity. Being back home, my foundations were so stable that nothing changed. In the midst of deaths and divorces, life still kept moving at a steady pace. Friends and family carried on and people lived their best and truest lives.

Conclusion

Heading back to Philadelphia was not in my plan. However, if it means success when I take the exam in February and a sweet victory in May when I pass, then I am willing to leave Atlanta behind for a while. I am going to miss my friends and miss the place that tested every piece of grit I could potentially have. Yet, now is the time to do what is best for my future. God, my mother, my closest friends, and my significant other all support my decision to pack up and leave. Even my employer also supports the decision.

This means that for the next few months, I will be disappearing from this space to try to recenter my life. When I return, I hope I can share with you what I have learned from living in a house, that is not built on sand foundations.