“Our culture allows almost no room for creative breaks. There is little tolerance for seeking out a different kind of “work” that doesn’t somehow involve cubicles and widening butts and sour middle managers monitoring your e-mail and checking your Web site logs to see if you’ve wasted a precious 37 seconds of company time” — Mark Morford, “Why Do You Work So Hard?” SFGate
Nearly a month ago, I quit my job. It took years of soul-searching, planning and courage-gathering, but at last, I did it. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been adjusting to a new life. It’s not easy. Between our first baby on the way and the vagaries of following dreams, I don’t know what all the next months will bring. Some days I wake up afraid and I go to sleep afraid. I want to make my living by the steam and heart of my own writing and editing chops, and I know that is a hard path.
Yet.
Not once have I woken up and thought, “Are you sure you did the right thing? Shouldn’t you be back at your job?”
Making an honest choice is rarely an easy choice, it’s just the right one to make.
The times I’m scared are outnumbered by the times I’m excited. I can follow my interests and work towards a better living through them. I can be closer to the people I care about. I’m working with people I’ve wanted to work with. And I’m writing and writing and writing.
There’s a lot to be said for a life lived true to one’s heart.
Whether it’s parenthood or travel, time with friends or exploring your backyard, life is an adventure. Or rather, it can be, as long as you live your life as such. I’m living a new part of my life’s adventure, and every day is one step farther along a path that finally feels like it’s where I belong.
Some parting words
I keep an inspiration binder, packed with helpful tidbits from Christine Kane’s Expand When You’re Tempted to Shrink to an email from Barbara Winter on what got best-selling author Bill Bryson to finally quit his job and be a freelance writer.
This timeless piece from 2005 is one of my favorites:
May the adventure of your life be wonderful.
Reminds me of Robert Dugoni, who spoke at Willamette. He quit his job and wrote his NYT bestseller!
May you be visited by similar success.