Do you embrace life changes?
Or, like me, do you tiptoe (or run) away from change?
I’ve always feared change, I guess, preferring to play it “safe” and not risk failure.
Until my mid-forties, I was stuck in a rut, miserable, no sense that I could change what I hated about my life.
Then one day I woke up, realized I would not live forever, and decided to start college (my lifelong dream).
I don’t think I slept for the first six months I was in college.
On a doctor’s advice, I carried a brown paper lunch bag with me everywhere I went.
I was having panic attacks throughout the day, hyperventilating, and one day I even broke out in hives.
I finally started breathing normally after awhile, then before I knew it, I had an undergraduate degree.
Then a master’s degree.
Luckily, I’ve been able to find work in my profession (Social Worker) since 1997.
As I’ve written on this blog before, I’ve worked for the same non-profit agency since moving to Seattle in 2000.
I’ve loved my work, and my employer has treated me very well, including supporting me 100% during the long illness of my mom.
As an employee, I’ve always worked with the passion of the Tasmanian devil (the one from Looney Tunes, of course). And I’ve always worked this way, from my days as a waitress to the present.
But lately, I’ve considered slowly down this frantic pace, maybe doing some other kind of work.
I just don’t know what that work will be yet, because I just don’t know what else I want to do, not with any certainty.
I have a few ideas, some stirrings to make a radical shift, but the old fears are holding me back.
What if I try and fail?
But isn’t not trying at all worse than failing?
There’s also the pain of letting go, of saying good-bye to work that I’ve invested my heart and soul in.
A few weeks ago, as I talked to my boss about my plans to semi-retire in 6-12 months, to do something a BIT less stressful, I felt a catch in my throat, a twinge around my heart.
This will be a loss for you, I told myself as I was leaving my supervision time.
Stay tuned, dear friends, as I contemplate another life shift, consider taking that personal road less traveled once again.