Vienna

I (finally) want to announce some little successes. I've tried not to be too negative here, but obviously when discussing rejection there's always that underlying sense of despair, and in a way writing about it has certainly helped me cope with the gnawing urge to give up.

So when success bursts through the door, unannounced, and whisks you off your feet, how do you react? Are you elated? Or are you skeptical? Like me, you might just be silent and regard it as a welcome guest.

First, the title of this post: Vienna is a city I have been dying to visit for no specific reason. I chalk up my blind fascination to watching The Sound of Music every night for two years of my tweenhood and studying psychology in undergrad (it's where Sigmund Freud is from). And that pure compulsion to experience the city's splendor, to wander among its palaces and through its language, must mean something waited for me. Something glamorous. Something like success. Billy Joel said that, right?

Admittedly I took Joel's lyrics as literally as possible and planned a trip with my partner for our 5-year anniversary. This was not only an overdue holiday, but a week-long break to mark a new phase in my life. At the beginning of April, I officially changed teams at work and moved to part-time: three days on, two days off. I still ask myself what I'll do on those two extra days. Maybe nothing. Or way too much. Write. Research. Churn out more of these wending blog posts. Go for hikes. Practice figure skating. Savor the hours that remain and the fact that there are more hours in the day to claim. This time is mine.

I don't have the luxury to do absolutely nothing, of course. A cut in my salary has ignited the coals beneath my feet, and I need to start walking before the cost of living crisis leaves me blistered beyond repair. So, when we returned to the hotel after a sunny excursion to Vienna's center, in which we saw as many sights as we wanted to see and cheekily ate two desserts at Haas & Haas, I was stunned to find a "congratulations" email in my inbox. Unaccustomed to that word—unless it was in some marketing ad—my eyes scanned the email several times until I said out loud, "I have a freelance gig." Will this supplement my wages? To be determined. But it'll pay me very well to write and do research on any topic I find interesting, and that's enough for me.

We travelled from Vienna to Frankfurt and back to the UK. After two days, again an email came through, but this one arrived relatively late at night. I opened it, expecting my application for the London Rose of Tralee to be rejected for a variety of head-nodding reasons: "the volume of applications", "the high level of interest", "exceeded the number of eligible girls", etc. Not this time; I had made it through to the London final. Not only that, but I was instructed to block out time in the weeks leading up to the final for the Rose Tour, which involves activities such as historical site visits and charity events.

For those unfamiliar with the Rose of Tralee, I encourage you to check out their website and all the memes you can find from previous festivals on YouTube. It's for women of Irish descent from Ireland and around the world, who compete in local/regional heats for the chance to travel to Tralee in August for the famous international festival. On one hand, it's about embodying Irishness (something I've written about before) and the characteristics of the woman described in the eponymous song, which you've probably heard at least once in your life. I certainly heard it loud and clear when my dad called me to celebrate!

On the other hand, it's about so much more than that. It's a celebration of the diaspora and the land we're all connected to. It's an event the whole country joins in on, in some ways like the Fleadh Cheoil. I'm getting ahead of myself, however—I'm going to the London final, and for now that's where my focus will remain.

I'm so grateful for these successes. They have replenished me, and reminded me to persevere no matter how many rejections I receive. I'll be candid: when you're so accustomed to "no", you secretly welcome it. Rejection doesn't necessarily uproot anything, it just blocks you from what you want or need, and indeed deprives you. So you stick to your routine and devise new, wilder ways to improve. When you finally receive a "yes", plans need to change. One "yes" may lead to another, and you ride each one with fervor, perhaps to your detriment if you forget to take a break once in a while.

What does that mean for me? I have set aside time every week to do freelance work, and will need to stick to firm work/life boundaries to ensure I uphold that chunk of truly free time. As for the London Rose, there is quite a lot of prep to do, flights to rearrange (the Tour coincides with when I plan to be in Ireland visiting my family), and a performance to devise. Like the trip to Vienna, it's a balance of leisure and exploration, exhilaration of what I find and acceptance that I cannot experience it all.

Is this all not just more work? No, because it's mine. This time is mine.