about a job

I have few regrets over choosing the lifestyle change that I did. I am pleased with where my life has taken me. What I can say, is that I regret leaving the way I did. I like to think that it was as sudden and fierce as it felt, but looking back now I can admit it was a gradual build up that I should have been more attentive to. It’s not to say that I wouldn’t do most of it over again, but I like to think I would have given more notice to my superiors.

People often ask me why I left. I give different answers, but none of them are lies. There are lots of things that lead to big decisions. Some of them I will share with you here, over time. Some of them I won’t. Some of them even I don’t yet know.

The best way I can describe all of it to (perhaps appropriately, given my locale) use the ocean, starting from the first day of work:

In the beginning, I stayed way back on shore. The water was threatening. I didn’t know what was in there. I was afraid that I didn’t belong there and couldn’t possibly be accepted there. I didn’t know what kind of shoes to wear or even what size, and the sand was oh-so-hot beneath my feet.

As soon as I figured out the shoes, I went running for the water. Now, you might have some experience in this: when you get comfortable in a job in the beginning, you might be too cocky and think you can handle more than you actually can. Of course I am guilty of this. I’ve always been guilty of throwing myself too far too fast. So I ran towards the water, like I said, and halfway there I tripped over my shoes because they weren’t tight enough and I fell face-first into the sand and seagull poop.

That’s the metaphor, but the truth was I made huge, huge mistakes that cost the company a lot of money and I also drilled my finger, which still holds a piece of carbide in its little pinky self even as I type this. I can feel it there. It is as constant a reminder of my past as the scar on my arm from the bread toaster at Subway.

I got up and brushed the sand off. You can’t just lay there, after all. It took awhile and I didn’t get all of the sandy bits out because we all know sand is like glitter and you will find it in crevices seemingly years later. But hey, I got up, and I cautiously started to meander towards the water again, this time more slowly and with the straps appropriately adjusted. I would repeat these first steps for every new department I went into.

Eventually, I did make it to the shoreline. There, it was like the scenes out of the movies that you’ve come to know, with the water lapping gently, white waves in the distance, and sand giving gently beneath your weight. It was dolphins jumping out of the water, gorgeous conch shells to be found at your feet. I walked that shoreline every day and was so excited to get up and return to it. It was adventure and freedom and I had found the place my heart soared in.

I loved my coworkers more than there are words. I loved my customers and being able to recognize their voices over the phone. I loved that we had visitors. This was my family. This *IS* still my family in a lot of ways.

I loved the preparation of a product and the idea that we could take something so raw and turn it into something that would make someone smile in the end. Every new product was just as exhilarating as the last. It was never old. I still feel that when I see new things made there. I still feel like that when I see old things being produced there.

Obviously, you know this isn’t going to be a “and she lived happily ever after” story, because you already know the ending, so let’s get there.

One day, when I reached the shore, it was a different tide. It wasn’t necessarily that the company had changed, but perhaps I had. The water snuck up more quickly. My shoes got wet. I stepped back and the sand sank deeper. It wasn’t too big of a deal, you know, having a little water on my feet. The big deal was each time this happened, it became more difficult to walk. My feet began to be sore from the grains trapped in there.

Reader, I did everything I could to try to rinse the sand off of my feet. I wanted my dream back so much it hurts my heart even now to think of what I lost. It was my love, and even though we loved each other, that ocean and I, we suddenly couldn’t figure out how we fit together anymore. There were so many reasons we weren’t going to be able to work out at this juncture in my life, but the point is it just wasn't working.

One awful day, I took my shoes off and was rinsing them off in the water to try one more time to get the sand off. To try to take away just a little bit of the pain that had built up and had made my feet raw. I began to think it was working, but I hadn’t realized I had turned my back to the ocean. You never turn your back to the ocean.

The wave came fast and hard, knocking into my back and throwing me back into the sand like it had in my early days. This time though, it wasn’t as easy as getting right back up again. This time, the water pounded me into the wet, sharp rocks and knocked the wind out of me. I reached out, shoeless, and feebly tried to grab onto the sand to no avail, making my fingertips as raw as my feet. The ocean sucked me out and pounded me, rolled me, knocked me again and again.

Between the moment I tried to wash those sandals and the moment the unforgiving water spit me back out again, I had left my job and was waking up, barely conscious, back in the sand.

There I was, laying in the heat with burning in my lungs. The salt was in the back of my throat. I felt so heavy and sore, I honestly thought then and there that I would never get up again. I cried and cried and cried. I cried for what I had lost. I cried for the fear of what would happen if I got up again and tried to walk. I cried because I didn’t even really know how I had gotten where I was.

I crawled my way back across the sand and eventually even managed to stand back up on my feet. The sand was still hot. My body was still raw... But I had survived.

I am asked frequently if I will ever return. I never say yes. I never say no. I miss it often, that shoreline. I miss it and often visit from a distance, but my heart is still afraid of the waves, even years later.

Again, I do not regret what I have, because I made the very life I dreamt about, and I recommend everyone take such a leap of faith for something they believe in, but it does not come without the rawness. It does not come without the sand.