Putting Out to Sea
“When your ship, long moored in harbour, gives you the illusion of being a house; when your ship begins to put down roots in the stagnant water by the quay: put out to sea! Save your boat’s journeying soul, and your own pilgrim soul, cost what it may. “Archbishop Hélder Câmara
Alone in my corporate office on a Sunday afternoon, I fell into an almost meditative state as I quietly went about the task of unplugging the cords and cables that tethered me to the walls of the place I called “work.” My homemade personal protective equipment, engineered using a bandana, rubber bands, and safety pins, sat on the corner of my desk. Intuitively, I knew this was a ritual of endings and beginnings, even if I did not quite know how the current situation would play out.
The date was March 15, 2020, and the World Health Organization had just recently declared a pandemic. For the foreseeable future, the distance between work and home would be compressed. Those of us fortunate enough to be able to do our jobs remotely reconfigured personal spaces into workspaces.
The transition to working from home was easy enough for me as I had already set up a well-equipped home office in anticipation of the day when I would finally untether from the corporate job for good and be free to explore all that I was feeling called to do in this life.
For the entirety of my career, I felt my true vocation was something other than what I was doing professionally. Something was calling that I could not ignore or deny but leaving the security of a steady paycheck kept me metaphorically moored to the corporate dock.
Three months prior, when COVID-19 was barely on the radar, I finally believed I had accumulated enough provisions (savings, other sources of income, and training in specific areas of interest) to feel comfortable pulling in the ropes and setting sail. Not long after I had set the date, I found myself literally sitting on a dock in Fort Lauderdale, Florida second-guessing that decision once again.
It was the final night of a multi-day company meeting to kick off what promised to be a prosperous and exciting new year. My colleagues and I were enjoying a lavish evening meal on the company tab at a dockside restaurant. The wine was flowing as balmy ocean breezes swirled amidst sounds of laughter and animated conversation.
I will not lie; it was not a bad gig. I genuinely enjoyed the people I worked with, and I had been in the business long enough to feel confident and competent in my day-to-day tasks, while still being offered new responsibilities and opportunities to grow professionally. My values were not always in complete alignment with some of the leadership, but on balance I had nothing to complain about. Certainly, nothing to quit over.
As I looked across the sparkling water set afire by a luminous full moon, string lights, and glowing yachts passing just yards from our table, I slipped into my own thoughts--juxtaposing the scene before me against the decision I had been endlessly contemplating. As if on cue, one of my tablemates broke my reverie by declaring, “I’ve always said that if you pay people enough, they will not quit their jobs.”
What? Was this person reading my mind? Indeed, I could not imagine any sane person walking away from my paycheck. There were more than a few people in my inner circle who thought I was nuts to even consider it. Why, as a middle-aged woman, couldn’t I just be content to keep doing what I was doing and pursue this nebulous calling in retirement?
One answer, to stretch this metaphor further, was that if I waited any longer my vessel would not be fit for the journey. The physical and mental toll of trying to do both was unsustainable. I had to commit. I simply had to choose where to apply my finite resources of energy and time, or risk ending up having a less desirable choice made for me because of illness or unforeseen calamity.
It was the unforeseen calamity the Coronavirus wrought upon the world that turned out to be the catalyst, propelling me out of that safe harbor and toward a new horizon. My original timeline for departure did shift a few months further out as confidence in my carefully crafted safety net wobbled in the face of global economic uncertainty. Once I got my bearings though, the decision was made clear. The illusion of security had evaporated, revealing that I had nothing to lose and everything to gain by letting go.
Let me be completely transparent. Despite the clarity, I waffled right up to the point of no return when I finally tendered my resignation. For days afterward, I was sick with worry and self-recrimination. If you, dear reader, are anything like I was and found yourself here after spending inordinate amounts of time googling “why quitting my job was the best decision I ever made”, I hope you will not be disappointed that I have more questions than answers to offer you today. This story is just beginning.
What I can tell you is this…
Today, as I write this one year after freeing my computer monitors from the walls of that office, I am well and truly free of any pull to go back from whence I came. No regrets—not even a tinge. For now, the provisions are holding, the way is opening, and I get to wake up every day and do only the work that my soul is calling me to do.
That is not a bad gig either.