I quit my job last week and I can’t remember feeling better. In a country experiencing coast-to-coast inflation, I stepped through the unmarked door of potential and came out with a piece of mind. I’ve decided to give less of a damn about what seems right and more about what feels right. Walking the line between then and later, I’ve learned that holding onto aggression, that of mine or anyone else, has negative effects and has never worked in my favor. I am a recovering “people pleaser” and am still learning from decisions I’ve made when putting others wants and desires before my own. Relationships with some of my loved ones have suffered because of decisions I’ve made. I’ll get into those experiences and what I was left to learn from them later this week.
I’ve learned that the first step to improving my overall health and wellness is allowing room. Room for growth, room for exploration. There’s so much I learned about myself, I wanted to learn more. Before I could do that, I had to break the chains; what was, what wasn’t, what could be. I began freeing head-space by practicing breathing exercises at work. What I couldn’t see in myself became apparent once I started taking the time to understand myself better. The first step to that was analyzing my priorities; not what I believed they were, but what my actions proved.
I found that over 70% of my routine was dedicated to making myself available to my employer, by any means necessary. Before meditation, healthy sleeping habits, healthy eating and regular exercise, I was making it my business to be to work on time. I dared not measure how much of that time I was robbing from my children. I was hanging on by a thread with iron dangling from my ankles.
Fear is paralyzing. How many of us stay at jobs we hate? I stayed at my job out of fear that I would be labeled lazy or a quitter if I didn’t. I came to embrace that none of what I was telling myself mattered. As a mother of three under 5, I came to fully understand my role in my life, my home and the world community. For the better part of 2014, I gave myself all sorts of reprimands for coming up short. Comparing my life to my fairytale, I kept feeling like a failure. Harping on disappointments, I kept telling myself that I had to suffer for my decisions. I’d assigned myself to hell.
By this past summer, I had convinced myself that a 9-to-5 was my only redemption. I knew I’d hate it. Hate it with a passion, but I’d take one for the team. Because I had to. I’d resigned to living a life I knew I didn’t want to appease my ego. I’d trusted the wrong people, put myself in a desperate situation, and in turn, alienated myself from some of those closest to me. And I was in the darkest part of the struggle to forgive myself when I made the decision to find a 9-to-5. I transferred my unwillingness to forgive myself into a false-purpose. I was running from pain and in that same sprint, had inflicted more upon myself. A pattern I noticed I exhibited time and time again. How could I change that?
Who am I?
Looking in the mirror is like looking through a tunnel when all you get is a trail of faces. Pain and doubt have rendered the sharp features into dull curves and points, remnants of souls come and gone.
Who are they?
All whom I’ve loved, who have loved me, who know my face and my name. Some of them I know, some of them I will. All of them I’ve been.
These are the questions I ask myself everyday. Some of the answers I know, some of them I will.
How can I break the pattern of pain and wonder?
Paralysis is best fed by fear. Standing still isn’t paralysis, it’s quite the opposite. Allowing your full self to flow creates a resonance so stealth, it’ll look like you’re standing still.
Break the wheel. Watch it roll and crumble.
With more time in the day to cater my routine to improving my overall health and wellness, I’ve allowed the space to morph freely.