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July-September, 2005

The Courage to Leap

by Rev. Susan Hanshaw

Stress and overwork certainly have a way of modifying one’s perception of reality. By the end of our industry’s annual holiday busy season, I finally came to the point where I knew I’d had enough. Yet I didn’t understand how to deal with the knowledge.

I guess the universe figured that if I were not ready to volunteer the discussion, it would have to be pulled out of me. One mid-October morning in a quiet side of a busy New Orleans hotel reception area, tired and drained from early days and late nights filled with business networking, my boss, John, sitting in the chair next to me, asked if there was something wrong; he noticed that I hadn’t been my normal cheerful self lately. Over the course of our five-year working relationship, John and I had built a pleasant friendship, and I couldn’t lie to him. I felt the tears well up in my eyes as I expressed questions about how much longer I could continue to do this work when my life was calling for deeper meaning attached.

”Are you telling me that you want to leave?”

”No; I’m not really ready to talk about it at any depth. This is just how I am feeling.”

”Let’s make sure we talk before you come to any big decisions.”

”Okay.”

Even though I wasn’t ready to come to any conclusions, I felt better after having had this exchange. John was such a gracious man and terrific boss that I felt guilty walking around pretending that I was enthused about my work. We both knew my heart wasn’t in the business anymore, and this, too, ate away at me. Not only did I feel I was cheating John, I was holding a position that rightfully could belong to someone who wanted the charge more than I. A week or two later, again before I felt prepared enough to visit the subject again in any kind of significant way, John stepped into my office, closed the door, and asked me what I had been thinking about since our talk that final morning in New Orleans. This became the kickoff to a number of evolving conversations over the next month.

I felt very torn at this point. From an emotional perspective, I wanted to cut back to half time, knowing I wanted out as much as I could possibly structure it without giving up too much of my financial security. Once I voiced that, I experienced a fair amount of anxiety, asking myself ,“What the heck have I done?” This response was clearly a message that I wasn’t quite ready to cut the ties too deeply, and I suppose John was pretty much in the same space. We settled on a schedule where I gave up 20% of my compensation for a Monday through Thursday working week. Perfect.

I started this new schedule at the first of the year, committing Fridays to writing. This arrangement was such a new and wonderful novelty that I was keenly aware to how I was responding to it. Besides cherishing the fact that I could take a walk through the glorious hills around my house at a time when I would normally feel chained to my desk, I recognized that my heart simply felt joyful, and my lusciously sacred Fridays set a peaceful and centered tone through the weekend. The challenging flip side to that, however, was that the long weekend joy became a bright mirror which reflected how I had opposite feelings about my Monday through Thursday experiences. I felt like I had two lives, one that I treasured, and one that dragged me down. Here I was a spiritual student who believed in the principles of faith and God so much that I felt called to teach them, yet I was completely unable to relax into the faith that I would be taken care of if I released the financial security of my well-paying marketing job. It was so clear how much I wanted out of the marketing job that I told a friend that the best thing that could happen to me was to get fired. Clearly I wanted the split to take place, yet I was looking at having someone other than myself make the decision to spare me any responsibility of having made a mistake.

John and I agreed that we would wait until after the partner’s meeting, one week later, to announce to the staff that I was leaving. The day the news was let out was a very emotional one for me. I gathered my group in the conference room, already teary eyed myself, wondering how I would be able to hold it together. After all, I gave birth to the division, and those who now shared in its responsibilities were women I cherished. The work was often stressful and very busy, yet we respected and enjoyed each other. As I sat at the end of the long conference table with my team gathered on both sides near me, the tears flowed immediately when the message that I had resigned came out of my mouth. Funny how the universe had placed a box of tissues on the table within my reach, a spot I never noticed one to reside before.

Once I’d taken this long-awaited leap of faith, there was absolutely no fear, no regrets, and this time, no “What have I done?” Instead I felt a smile in my heart, which I suspected was God’s gratitude and support. I sensed energy in motion around me that was preparing for my introduction to the teaching work that had lived inside of me for over twenty years. I also felt that I had claimed my life back, and I was very excited to think about creating each day for myself, with a strong confidence that each day would lead me forward towards a successful new stimulating career. I just needed to continue to believe in myself, hold strong to my deepening faith, and apply myself. I felt ready.

© 2005, Pathways of Light. https://www.pathwaysoflight.org
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