What do you want to be when you grow up?

What do you want to be when you grow up?







Well, here goes nothing. Literally. I gave my 2 weeks notice at my job last week without a new job to jump into. I thought I’d braced myself for jumping off that cliff without the safety net of a plan, but I was wrong. Even though I made a vow to myself to allow the empty space and a few months to explore my options before I chose my next step, I realized I was scared to death.

The experience of saying goodbye to a minimum of my 12-15 clients a day; being asked what I was doing next and what job I was stepping into, and having to say, I don’t have one, really solidified how lost I was. And then it hit me, that I wasn’t really scared to death, it was more like I was scared of death. Scared of the death of who I was without something new to immediately replace it with. I’m intentionally saying goodbye to the title I had with no solid title for who I will be now. It reminded me of when you are asked as a child, what do you want to be when you grow up, but what if I never wanted to grow up?…kind of puts you in a pickle huh? It’s easier to say to the world, I’ve learned I’m not an apple, because I’m a pear. But what if you are just saying, I’ve learned I’m not an apple and I’m not sure what I am anymore?

When it comes to defining myself as my job and the way I earn money. I got…nothing. And yet, there is a part of me that feels wildly authentic just admitting that.

It was windy yesterday and I couldn’t help myself from just standing still, letting the winds of change blow my way. Sometimes, it feels enough just to breathe and be present for it all.

I read recently that introverts gravitate towards mountains; while extroverts towards the beach. I think on some level, we crave both. To disappear into the spacious nothingness and everythingness of the mountains yet to also ride the often chaotic waves, feeling intimately connected to it all. Maybe we really want to somehow etch on each moment of our precious lives, despite the groundlessness … I was here.