Odds Are…

I’m the type of person that puts a little too much stake into the odds. I like to analyze, research, and quantify. This honestly, is a weakness of mine. It allows me to know what type of situation I’m getting myself into and to be prepared, sure. More often than not, however, it makes me bet against myself. This came to my conciousness recently, and I’ve been a bit bummed out by the realization (and the impending consequences of such). 

One of the many jobs that I have been applying for is a residency with the Jewish Fund for Justice, which is a nonprofit organization that works through the portion of Jewish faith that calls for social change, specifically through interfaith discussions and coalitions. I discovered it pretty close to the deadline, so I didn’t have time to do my normal research on the past, present, and future residents to find out if this was a good fit for me statistically, which is my normal behvavior pattern, until after I submitted my application, resume, and essays. 

Once I got a chance to get my hands on the internet and find out about the residents from last year’s co-op, my mind was blown. It was not a group of early to mid twenties like I thought, but a group of more professionally advanced, 30s and 40s….ordained priests and rabbis….people who have lived and traveled all over the world….people who spoke 3 plus languages. I got the email saying that they had recieved my application, but they wanted all applicants to know that they could not respond to every application personally (approximately 150ish people). 

After finding out the odds of me statistically getting this resdiency and reading that portion of the email, I immeadiately wrote it off. Figured I didn’t have a chance, and honestly was kind of sad that I spent so much time on the many essays I had to write for it…because if I had known the odds, I certainly wouldn’t have even wasted my time. 

Well, last week, however I got invited to do a first round interview with them and they said that they enjoyed reading my application. Immeadiately, I was so overjoyed I couldn’t contain it…more than anything, it’s nice when someone says they enjoy reading what you have written, especially if it’s as personal and exposing as the essays I wrote about loosing, and then ultimately finding my faith. 

Since the overjoy, I have had a mixed bag of emotions. Fear-because deep down I’m afraid I won’t be good at this. Angst-because it implies that I might have to eventually leave my fantastic group of friends and family. Intimidation-because who am I to do this work? Lastly, guilt-(because I’m a good protestant child) about knowing that I wouldn’t have even applied if I knew that the odds were probably against me. (Thank goodness I didn’t have time to research!)

Anyways, the phone interview is tomorrow and if that goes well, I might be invited to an interview in San Franciso at the end of May. I’m nervous. I hate admitting that, really-I hate even sharing this opportunity because it could just be a door slamming into my face…then I would have to deal with the people pitying me. However, a friend recently tweeted a quote my L. Hyde—”It is not when a part of the self is inhibited and restrained, but when a part of the self is given away, that community appears.” 

So there’s part of me….the scared, intimidated, happy possibility part of me. If you have time, send some postivie thoughts my way tomorrow mid-day, until then, I’m going to be researching feng shui….odds are it might help. 

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