On Leaving, Leaping, and Letting Go

I have never been much of a leaver.

I like things comfortable. I like things how they are. I like the false sense of safety and security that a tight grip offers.

I am also fiercely loyal. To family. To friends. To where I buy my groceries. And of course, to my employer.

And so it has been an incredibly difficult decision to make the break that I will officially make this week.

It still sounds weird to even say:

I am leaving my corporate job.

And I don't have another one lined up.

This is the part of life where you realize that your story isn't necessarily who you are, and it certainly doesn't have to be who you are growing into being.

Five years ago, I walked into a yoga class - thinking - knowing even - that I wasn't flexible enough to do yoga.

And we all know what happened there.

That lesson has changed the course of my life.

Yoga opened up the parts of me that had long been dormant; not just physically, but emotionally as well. And as this blog can attest to - yoga helped me tap the forgotten writer that had been buried under "doing the safe thing" for so long.

I have wanted to write a book since I was a little girl. I have been writing in my head and in my heart for as long as I can remember.

And now - at age 33 - I am going to try and realize that dream. Even if that realization involves only three people reading my work.

This is not a change without fear and very real risk. To walk away from a good income at a solid company is not something I take lightly. At the same time, however, we are offered no guarantees in this life beyond right now, in this moment.

Life is short. Terrifyingly, shockingly, achingly short. The beauty of life makes the ticking clock that much more imminent.

Our lives are a series of choices that direct our path. I am incredibly grateful to have this new path as a choice - and to have a partner behind me that has loved me and supported me in this and every other crazy adventure we have taken on across twelve years of marriage, sixteen years of togetherness, three states, and two continents.

Something magical has also happened with this choice. I feel like I don't just have my partner behind me - but a whole village. A village of forever friends and family and yoga friends and artist friends and soon to be former coworkers, and yes, even this city. This holy, crazy, larger than life, 7x7 place that I call home.

I have always wondered what a leap like this would feel like.

And standing here on the edge of the cliff - it feels a lot like you might expect: plenty of fear, some excitement, and a lot of anticipation for the relief of finally leaping. Because once you head out over, you've committed, and you are on your way.

This is the letting go moment.

And I'm finally here.