My Writing. My World.
White privilege is a phrase that has been added to my vernacular seemingly overnight.
But I am the first to admit that I have been on the fringe of what has been going on in our country. Not to mention the overt and ongoing racism that so many of my fellow Americans—my fellow human beings—face on a daily basis.
I live in a small town that is sorely lacking in diversity. We chose to live here simply because it reminded me of the small towns in New England where I grew up.
Imagine we were sitting down together over a cup of coffee right now.
You were complaining about your job and feeling frustrated that you know it’s not right for you, and that you’re just not happy there anymore. (If you ever were.)
And I asked you, “What is your soul work?”
What would you say?
Would you immediately jump to the standard answer of, “Oh, I don’t know…” without even thinking about it? Without even blinking?
Yesterday, I quit my dream job.
At least, what I thought was going to be my dream job.
It couldn’t have been more perfect for me—on paper, anyway. It was the title of my dreams, doing work that I love, for an organization that I admire and had been a huge fan of for years.
I knew a lot of people who were applying for the position, and they all would have been amazing in the role. But in the end, I was offered the position, and I was giddy.
It felt like the planets aligned in my career sector (is that a thing?) because it happened so quickly and effortlessly. Like it was meant to be. Destiny.
Have you ever thought about jumping off the corporate ladder and taking a leap of faith?
Do you dream about it all day, every day? Or never, because you love your job and all it provides? Or something in between, like only on Mondays or the bad days?
If you do dream about it, what will it take for you to finally make that leap?
Well, I finally found out what it took for me:
Finding comfort in small moments has been crucial to my sanity these past few months.
This fall, my family has experienced a perfect storm of overscheduling.
I have always been proud that our family has never been one of those families who has every minute of every day scheduled. We’ve always tried to keep our kids to only one or two activities at a time.
It’s been a few weeks now since the election and here is where I’m still struggling.
I am caught between the badass women I love and the big, bad bully on playground.
There are three women—perhaps more—whom I have admired, respected and looked up to as feminist role models in my life for a long, long time.
Women who, it turns out, voted for Trump.
