Jumping off the High Dive

"Let's recap: Because a hockey player's kid made me feel like a superficial jerk. I ate two slices of bad pizza, went to bed and grew a conscience." –Jerry Maguire

No, that’s not exactly how it happened for me, but the emotions were similar. Last June I had the sudden unnerving sensation that I was on the wrong track. My career was taking me away from fulfillment instead of toward it. My immediate impulse was to update my resume, work my network, and make a move. And I started down that path. But in a brief, blinding moment of sanity, I took a breath. The last two job moves I’d made had been big and hasty. And in hindsight, neither of those moves had been exactly right. So, I took another breath and realized that was what I needed: to breathe. For a good, long time. Then I did the bravest craziest smartest stupidest most freeing thing I’ve ever done: I left my job in order to do nothing. Which left me feeling a lot like Hugh Grant’s character in About a Boy.

This is my 48th week of not being burdened with employment. When I left work, there was a thought deep in my subconscious that I would become bored within about three months. But that didn't happen. Most weeks I've been so busy that I wasn't sure I would have had time for a job if I'd wanted one. With so much going on, you'd think I'd write a blog post or two, right? Part of me wanted to. But I didn't want to put this online until I knew how the story would end. The fact that this post is here, means I know now. And I never saw it coming.