Perhaps I'm a rare bird, but I've been fortunate to find work that has felt fulfilling and, for the most part, I've gotten lucky in having good managers and teams to work with. If I could take my job with me on our worldschool adventure, I would, but I knew it wasn’t going to be possible and that I’d have to step away. It's been a scary proposition, but this isn't the first time I've been down a similar road.
There are two other times in my life when I left a job without a plan in place for what was next. The first was in 2006 when we were living in San Francisco. I had accepted what I thought was going to be an awesome job that would help me pivot my background into a slightly different direction. I was working with external clients like Sun Microsystems (remember them?), Google (yes, in the early days), and Microsoft (long before I knew I'd work there). But the culture of the company was toxic. I was micromanaged and not trusted. (Someone would actually look over my shoulder at times, inspecting my work real time.) I lasted seven months, not because I wasn't capable of doing the work, but because my opinion and capability were disregarded; there was no psychological safety. I became resentful of how I was treated.
When I had to fight for bereavement leave after a family member died unexpectedly, that was the last straw. I saw clearly that the company didn't care about me; they just cared about their clients and, ultimately, their bottom line. I wasn't familiar at the time with "employee engagement" but, looking back, I was very much disengaged, and the culture was not one I wanted to contribute to. So I walked away. My integrity and well-being were more important to me than a paycheck. In a way, I was ahead of my time, but I also know now that I could've never walked away like that without the privilege I have. (That's a post for another day.)
The second time I left a job without a plan for what was next was when we chose to move to Colorado, just two years later. The Bay Area was (and still is) expensive and we figured why not try someplace else while we were fairly mobile? Chris' job allowed him to relocate, so I gave notice and found myself in a position to start anew. That's, of course, how I ended up applying to the job in Japan. Ultimately, I instead went to grad school and pivoted into the field of learning & development, which I've broadly been in since.
Did I worry both times about what the future would hold for me? About whether I'd find another job or make something of myself? About whether I'd earn a decent salary again? Absolutely, 100%. But those experiences taught me that I am adaptable, resilient, and more than capable of figuring things out. And so, as I go into our worldschooling adventure, I go with that perspective and belief in myself. I also go with a true sense of wonder. I know I won't be the same person on the other side, and I want our experiences to shape me into who I'm meant to continue becoming. If I return to the corporate world, then I hope our experience will enrich how I approach my work. And if I don't, then I hope it fuels whatever my next career journey is.
I have another model who's gone before me and that's Chris. He semi-retired 2+ years ago. It was a different situation; he truly needed a break. He was like a plant that had been starved of water and sunlight and had wilted. Since leaving his job, he has come back to life. All aspects of his health are better, and he's found passion and energy for new pursuits. It's opened my eyes to just how much our jobs require of us, even when we like them and feel supported. They take our time, our energy and, sometimes, our spirit.
All of this has helped me realize that there are multiple ways to define success beyond the prestige of the company you work for, the title you have, and the salary you make. That said, walking away this time is not easy; in fact, it’s taking more courage and conviction than I anticipated. I’ve lain awake many nights, unable to sleep, wracked with anxiety about doing something so “irresponsible.” My heart and soul say: Go explore the world; open your perspective; seek joy in different places. But that means letting go of the structure and security (false as it may be) around me and leaping into what, for us, is the unknown. We're trading known comfort for potential discomfort. Certainty for uncertainty. It’s scary AF.
I like what author and coach Allison Carmen said in this article I came across: "Sometimes our efforts to secure certainty leave us far from the life that we desire…If we can find the courage to face the unknown, we can 'mind' our futures more gently. We can examine new ideas, go places we never expected to go…Mindfully releasing our need for certainty also creates more tolerance and patience as we give up our view or our path as the only way. This in turn can open us up to the blossoming of a life filled with wonder…"
Of course, easier said than done, but Allison also offers this advice: "Sometimes…we don’t realize we are choosing certainty over another possibility in our lives. A great way to create awareness is to review various choices you made throughout the day or week. Ask yourself did I make this decision for certainty? Did I make this decision to feel more secure or to pursue my goals? Does this decision make me feel joyous or dreadful? Do I think it will lead to new opportunities and experiences? What if I wasn’t afraid of the unknown, would I have made this decision?”
When I read that, I knew that my desire to keep my job comes from a "certainty" and security mindset. Of course, there is no certainty – only the illusion of it. When I think about our worldschooling adventure, it's absolutely about pursuing the goal of broadening perspective, feeling joyous, and unlocking new opportunities and experiences. And so maybe my head is actually in line with my heart after all. Either way, I'm giving myself permission to hit pause and step away, trusting that the future will work itself out, even though I can’t see how quite yet.