Unit 6B - Beginning Anew
When you find yourself tied down to doing a job that just isn't you, it is easy to wish to be able to start off along a completely new path. Unfortunately, this is often easier said than done, the path stony and difficult to follow. For Muriel Whetstone, however, it turned out to be a journey well worth the effort.
Beginning Anew
Muriel L. Whetstone
I dreaded Sundays. I began living for the weekend at 8:30 Monday mornings. I felt bitter towards my boss. The thought of answering other people's telephones, typing other people's work and watching other people take credit for my ideas and opinions would throw me into week-long bouts of depression. I hated my job. I hated my life. I hated myself for not having the courage to change either one.
When most of my friends were planning college schedules and partying into the night, I was changing dirty diapers and walking the floor with a crying baby. At 19 years old I was the mother of two, and a pitifully young wife. Everything I did for years, every decision I made, was done with my family in mind.
And then I turned 29, and 30 was only a breath away. How long could I live like this? Certainly not until I retired. I began to feel that if I didn't do something soon, something quickly, I would die of unhappiness. I decided to follow my childhood dream: I was going to get my undergraduate degree and become a full-time journalist.
I quit my job on one of my good days, a Friday. Almost at once I was filled with anxiety. What would I tell my husband and what would be his reaction? How would we pay our bills? I must be crazy, I thought. I was too old to begin again. I prayed, Lord, what have I done? I wondered if I was experiencing some sort of early mid-life crisis. Perhaps if I crawled back to my boss on my hands and knees and pleaded temporary madness, he'd give me my job back. I spent that entire weekend in the eye of an emotional storm.
But while I was feeling uneasy about the bridge I'd just crossed, I also began to feel a renewed sense of hopefulness about the possibilities on the other side. I had had a long love affair with the written word that was separate and apart from any of my roles. What we shared was personal: It belonged to me and would always be mine despite anything going on outside of me. I wasn't quite sure what my journey would involve, but I was positive who would be at the other end. I steeled myself to travel the road that would lead me to a better understanding of who I was and of what I wanted out of life. I shared my mixed feelings with my husband. He was as worried as I was, but he was also warmly supportive. And so I stepped off the bridge and onto the path, nervous but determined. I soon discovered that I loved to learn and that my mind soaked up knowledge at every opportunity. My decision at those times felt right. But sometimes, after realizing what was expected of me, I would be weighed down by self-doubt and uncertainty.
I was older than a few of my instructors and nearly all of my classmates. I felt like an outsider practically that entire first semester. Finally I met a group of older female students who were, like me, making a fresh start. We began to share our experiences of returning to school, dealing with husbands, lovers, children and bills that had to be paid. Over time we have become sisters, supporting ourselves by encouraging and supporting one another.
I eventually had to seek employment to help with expenses. In fact, I've had more jobs in the couple of years than I care to count. Many times I've had to stir a pot with one hand while holding a book with the other. More than a few times I've nearly broken under the pressure. I've shed tears on the bad days, but smiles are plentiful on the good ones.
However, I would not take back one tear or change one thing about the last couple of years. It hasn't been a snap: From the beginning I knew it would not be. And it's not so much the results of the action that have reshaped me (although that's important, too) as it is the realization that I have within myself what it takes to do what I set out to do. I feel more in control these days and less like a flag on a breezy day, blowing this way or that depending on the wind.
I no longer dread Sundays, and Wednesdays are just as pleasant as Fridays. Now I get credit for my ideas, and my opinions are sought after. I love my new career. I love my life again. And I can clearly see a new woman waiting patiently just a little way down the road, waiting for me to reach her.
参考译文——重新开始
当你发现自己被一份你根本不想做的工作束缚住时，很容易希望自己能重新开辟一条全新的路。不幸的是，说来容易做来难，新路往往充满崎岖坎坷。然而，对穆丽尔·韦特斯通来说，这一人生之路还是值得一走的。
重新开始
穆丽尔·L·韦特斯通
我曾经惧怕星期天。那时我从星期一上午八点半开始就盼着周末。 我痛恨我的老板。每当我想起给别人回电话、打字，看到我出的主意和见解却让别人去受益时，常常整个星期都会闷闷不乐。我痛恨我的工作。我痛恨我的生活。我痛恨自己既没有勇气改换工作，也没有勇气改变我的生活。
当我的大多数的朋友都在计划上大学，欢聚至深更半夜时，我却在换脏尿布，抱着一个哭闹的孩子在屋里走来走去。才19岁，我就已经是两个孩子的母亲，一个可怜的小媳妇。多年来不管我做什么或是作出什么决定，我总得考虑我的这个家。
一晃我就29岁了，离30岁仅一步之遥。这样的生活我能维持多久？肯定不会到我退休之时。我开始觉得，如果我不早日有所作为，马上行动的话，我就会苦闷而死。我决定去追寻儿时的梦想：我要拿到大学本科学位，做一个全职的记者。
我在我的一个美好的日子，一个星期五，辞去了工作。我的心中几乎马上充满了焦虑。我怎么跟丈夫说呢？他会怎么反应呢？我们如何付家里那些账单呢？我真是疯了，我心想。我已经不再年轻，没法从头开始了。我祈祷着，天哪，我都做了些什么呀？我怀疑自己是在经历某种早期的中年生活危机。如果我爬回去跪倒在老板跟前，恳求他原谅我一时神志错乱，或许他会让我复职。整个周末我都在忐忑不安中度过。
然而，就在我对刚刚跨越人生之桥的举动深感不安之际，我同时也开始感到希望的复萌，觉得彼岸有种种机会在等着我。长久以来，我对与自己生活中的种种角色毫不相干的文字情有独钟。我与文字之间有一种默契：它属于我自己，并将永远是我的，无论外面的世界发生什么事情。我并不完全明白我的人生旅途中将要发生什么，但我对到达旅途终点之后的自己怀有信心。我坚定地走下去，这条路将使我更好地了解自己，更好地认清自己生活的目的。我向丈夫坦陈自己的复杂心绪。他和我一样担忧，但同时也热情支持我。于是我走下桥来，踏上征途，紧张但却坚定。我很快发现，我热爱学习，利用一切机会汲取知识。这时候我会觉得我的决定做对了。但有时，每当意识到别人对自己的期待时，我又会由于自我怀疑和对未来捉摸不定而感到心情沉重。
我比个别教师年龄还大，几乎比所有的同班同学都大。差不多整整第一学期，我觉得自己完全是个外人。终于我遇到了一些大龄女生，她们和我一样都在重新开始自己的生活。我们开始交流自己重返校园的体验，谈论怎么与丈夫、男友相处，怎么带孩子，怎么应付各种要付的账单等等。随着时间的推移，我们成了姐妹，通过相互鼓励，相互支持使自己获得勇气和信心。
我终于不得不找工作以贴补家用。事实上，在那两年里，我干过许许多多工作，连自己也懒得记数了。我常常不得不一手炒菜，一手拿着书看。好多次过重的负担几乎要把我压垮。在不顺利的日子里我哭泣流泪，但在顺利的日子里我也有许许多多欢笑。
然而，我不因流泪而后悔，也不想改变过去几年中发生的一切。这几年过得不容易：从一开始我就知道不容易。此外，给我带来新的生活的，与其说是自己努力取得的结果 (虽然这也很重要)，不如说是由于意识到自己具有潜在的能力可以做自己想做的事。如今我感到自己更能主宰自己的命运，不再如风中的旗帜，随风飘荡。
我不再惧怕星期天，星期三也如星期五一样愉快。现在我出了主意，功劳就是我的；我讲的意见，别人认真聆听。我热爱自己的新工作。我重新热爱自己的生活。我清楚地看到，在不远的前方，一个全新的女人正在耐心地等着我去与她拥抱。
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