Thesis for my Masters of Science in Quitting

For over six months a very persistent but understanding voice has told me that it's time to move on. I have ignored it, I have attempted to reason with it, I have resented it and been angry at it. Who in their right fucking mind quits a job when they are the ONLY one earning a stable income and bringing in benefits? Who? That would be me.

My life in review has led me to this truth: I am a quitter. I quit things that I don't feel are right for me. As a kid, I quit piano (mean teacher), gymnastics (too tall), and soccer (probably saved myself from anorexia or bulimia). I quit friendships - every year in high school I had a new group of friends. I retreated from those that overlooked me, were uninterested in really knowing me, or those that were interested in friendships that brought status. When I quit my high school boyfriend, it was to begin dating a handsome, long-haired, art education major in college. I thought it would be a short fling - an exciting dance to the tune of Wild Thing. I am still dancing with him 19 years later. The summer after my freshman year in college I came home, got a job at Burger King and then quit said job after my first elbow-covered-in-french-fry-grease night. I immediately told my parents I would not be spending the summer living with them (I was 18) and I moved back to East Lansing where I lived for three and a half years, gladly paying my own way that summer. I almost quit college, but decided against it and instead finished in three and a half years. Immediately after graduating from MSU, I quit the state of Michigan and moved to Phoenix, Arizona with my boyfriend-turned-fiance in tow. No jobs, no friends, just a rented apartment. Eventually we found jobs and made friends. We solidified our togetherness there - 2000 miles from any expectations, traveling the red rock, desert land of the west. We had been in Arizona for nine months, were married in Michigan during that time, when I decided we should quit Arizona. I had quickly realized how much I loved and needed Michigan and my family. We bought a house in a lovely neighborhood and we each had jobs, when I decided we needed to have kids. I then quit my job to stay home with them. I have quit multiple part-time jobs as a mom - always looking for a schedule and variety that worked best both personally and for my family. And now, the biggest risk I have ever taken is quitting a job that provides medical benefits and a stable paycheck to once again be at home. Why? Because...

I haven't quit my childhood dream job - to be a great mom.
I haven't quit my kids.
I haven't quit my marriage.
I haven't quit faith.
I haven't quit adventure.
I haven't quit listening to my intuition.
I haven't quit trusting in my ability to land on my feet.
I haven't quit knowing who I am and what I am capable of.
I haven't quit my dreams.

I am not done quitting. I look forward to quitting. I will gladly quit:
fear.
caring about other people's opinions of me.
looking backward.
worry.
resentment.
materialism.
wondering if I am enough, if my life has been worth it.

Today, I am a happy and peaceful person because of the things I quit. I don't regret one thing I have quit. I have known when it's right to stay and when it's time to move on. All of my decisions have led me to a greater understanding of myself and of life. I am so grateful to have solid, loving, mutual friendships. My husband I have have worked really hard to nurture the love and passion in our marriage and despite difficulties and dark days we continue to move forward. We are both nurtured and frustrated by the growth that we ask of and create for each other. I have three beautiful children that love me and still admit it out loud. I have family that lives near, in this beautiful state that I love. I live in the town that I grew up in and happily have claimed again, through a new love affair, as "home". I am looking forward to building a business with my husband and a holistic health practice of my own. I don't feel like a quitter at all. I feel like a doer. Like an adventurer. I'm a life-liver-and-lover and I'm at peace with who I am.

“Quitting is not giving up, it's choosing to focus your attention on something more important. Quitting is not losing confidence, it's realizing that there are more valuable ways you can spend your time. Quitting is not making excuses, it's learning to be more productive, efficient and effective instead. Quitting is letting go of things (or people) that are sucking the life out of you so you can do more things that will bring you strength.” ― Osayi Osar-Emokpae, Impossible Is Stupid

Intention to be Successful

I followed a nice car this morning on my drive to work. It was a convertible Lexus C-something-or-other. I was looking at it and admiring. I thought "would I buy that car if I could?" and I immediately answered "no". But I would let my husband buy it if he really really wanted it, and I would take it for a spin now and then. And then I got analyzing my answer and why I would be seen in it - but not everyday. I guess, it's because I am comfortable with luxury but not desperate for it. I was raised partially in the lap of it. It was never directly ours and my parents argued about money so much I thought we had none. Someone else had plenty, though. Someone I really really loved and admired. I knew he was loving and kind and would give the shirt off his back to anyone who needed it. He was the son of Norwegian immigrants who had very little. He set an intention to own his own business and he eventually made plenty of money. He handled money well. He gave it away, he helped others with it, he spent it on his wife & family. He made good things happen with it. He died poor. He had spent it all living luxuriously, having what he wanted and giving whenever he could.

The point? I am comfortable with money, luxury and success because it was good to me. But, it was never mine. So, I don't see it as something that I need to be happy. Truly. For me, this translates to not sticking to anything. If I don't need money for happiness, I can just do what I want to do and that can change every couple of years - a mental life of a beatnik, or a hippie, or gypsy. It's all good, man.

Then I realized. I want to be what I am meant to be - the fullest potential I can muster in this lifetime. It means taking a risk and to take this risk I know I need to make a living doing it. I have never had a clear vision for my career. And that has worked fine for me, until now.

Tonight, I walked in the woods. I was silent. I let ideas come find me. It doesn't take them long. The mind heard "be a person with a passion to do a certain job". And I pictured it. I thought of me as a person with a career intention. Not floundering, not changing my mind, and not stopping. I realized that this was a "me" that I had neglected. I neglected my career in building my dream life. In neglecting my career, I have not walked a straight path to my dream. I decided it's time to find the path and walk it. While I know money is not what I need to be happy, it is what come from doing what I love and creating the life I want.

I still kinda & sorta love life, a lot

I can't believe I am back to this blog. I originally birthed it as Scandalicious Suburbia. I got a kick out of being an unexpected goof ball. Maybe I come across as composed and with my shit together. I am not. Sometimes I am. Not really though. I don't know everything. I don't have it figured out. I do know life has a way of teaching me that you can never know what is next.

I don't like to tell my story because I know that it is just that - a story. It's my "this is why you should listen to me" plea. This is why I matter. Honestly, we all matter. You matter. Let's tell each other stories.

When we believe that we are unique and super-special, it's like we mentally hop a luxury yacht to the Island of No One Understands Me. Island life is unsettling - most everyone else is on the island of misfits or on their own private island of specialness. When we are over concerned with our own uniqueness, we send the message that any understanding, compassion, and love directed at us is misguided. If they haven't lived to tell the story you have lived to tell, how can they possibly understand? If we don't want to be alone, a victim of our story, we have to row-row-row ourselves to the island of misfits. It is there that we will find community among kindred souls.

How do we get to a place, as individuals, where we can both deal with our individualistic minds and expand our consciousness to include our desire for community and love? How do we rectify the two? Our egos want to us to believe we are Jesus reincarnate, but our souls know that we are all Jesus reincarnate. My story is your story. My antagonist is real to me, yet still an antagonist - a crucial character to every good story. My story has been told before and will be told again. My story, though the events are seemingly rare, mirrors at least one other story that I am aware of in my small city. How can I be so selfish as to worry about the stuff I go through when I know that people go through worse? Yet, how can I not worry about me when I have to help me survive? It's a conundrum that requires at least a year's worth of tissues, bad movies and sugar-laden treats to get through.

I was never one to lament. I am not a fan of it.I am a lover of life - as it is. And yet, I am sad to report I have spent the last year lamenting. I have grieved my choice to love and be open with people, I have said a big F-you to living in the moment (because it's really hard when the moment is shit covered in vomit), and I have just been a place where authenticity (caution: buzz word) seemed inconsequential and "playing it safe" seemed, well, safe.

But you know... if I really believed that I wouldn't be writing this. Playing it safe is not my cup of tea. If I live once (or live again with no memory of this), why do I care about being careful? I don't have a death wish. I have a life wish. I wish to live fully, in every moment. I wish to love. I wish to help. I wish to see beauty. I wish to breathe and dance and play and laugh.

Bring It

I am ready for the next adventure. I want life to break me open. I want no more of this boxed in, breathless, anxious state. I can say I am afraid, but I'm surprised at what I am afraid of. I am afraid of being too successful. I am afraid that brighter my light, the more I will disappoint the people that have known me the longest and the best. It's just as irrational of a fear as any other, but it's different. I have always known that I am strong, full of love, and capable of achieving whatever it is that I want to. I have never believed that it would be well received if I did.

This is my fear. And if I don't break through it, I stay here - in a curled up state of suffocation.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.