A selfie by the lake, somewhere in the mix of life, learning there was never a perfect sequence, only the unfolding.
Editor’s note: This is written from my current vantage point
Welcome curious minds and kind hearts. Last month, Think Again was an invitation to get curious, to question what I thought I knew, reconsider the stories I’d been telling myself, and think more deeply about what actually feels aligned with who I am.
But recognizing those things is only part of it. Eventually, we have to figure out what we do with what we’ve learned.
So this September, I’m continuing that conversation with a new series: The Things That Stay. This month is about integration and reflection by looking at what changes, what we outgrow, what deserves another look, and what somehow remains through all of it. Not because everything needs to be neatly resolved, but because sometimes looking back helps us understand what we want to carry forward.
And I think the best place for me to start is somewhere in the mix.
For a long time, I thought life followed a certain sequence. Build a career. Stay somewhere long enough to establish yourself. Get promoted. Increase your savings. Find a relationship. Get married. Have adventures. Maybe have kids. Eventually retire.
It wasn’t that I was unhappy with that picture. A lot of it is still important to me today, but I just assumed that was how life worked. To keep moving forward, check the next box, and trust that eventually all of those pieces would add up to a life. But even then, I remember wondering sometimes, is this really all life has to offer?
I wanted to discover more. I wanted to experience more. I encouraged other people to embrace life in ways I wasn’t always confident enough to embrace myself.
There was always a reason to wait. Whether it was that I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to be judged. I worried about money. I didn’t want to do things alone. So I kept thinking about the future while waiting to feel ready for it.
Then life stopped following the sequence.
Being let go from a job for the first time was a shock. That job has become more than a job for me. Doing well there had helped build my confidence. I felt secure. I felt like I belonged. I thought I was building a stronger foundation for whatever came next.
When it ended, I didn’t immediately start questioning my definition of success or discover some profound new direction.
I was dealing with a the mess.
There was a lot more happening than losing a job. Someone close to me became seriously ill. Relationships changed. I was trying to make sense of experiences that left me questioning my career, my relationships, my friendships, and eventually myself.
It took time to unravel all of that. In some ways, it felt like starting from zero. But somewhere in that process, something started shifting. It wasn’t all at once. Nor was there one big realization. I think that’s what makes it so strange to look back on now.
I started doing things differently. I ate at a restaurant by myself, even though I felt awkward and uncomfortable. I tried new things. I put myself in situations where I didn’t necessarily feel confident. I kept writing. Creating. Working out. And more recently, I tried swing dancing. I wasn’t particularly good at it but I kept trying anyway.
All of those may sound like small things. But for someone who spent a lot of time wanting to do things and then feeling disappointed when other people couldn’t or wouldn’t join me, these things weren’t small.
The holdup, however, was waiting for all the conditions around me to feel right instead of participating in my own life.
Slowly but surely, my wants and aspirations started changing too. I used to imagine ambition largely through career progression by staying somewhere long enough, getting promoted, taking on more responsibility, and building a reputation.
Today, while I’m still ambitious. It’s not the same type of ambition. Yet I feel even more determined now than I was before.
I want to create. I want to write. I want to challenge myself physically. I want meaningful work and opportunities where I can lead. I want financial stability. But I don’t want any of those things at the expense of actually having a life. Instead, I want my career to fit into the life I’m building, not build my entire life around my career.
I want time for my hobbies, passions, relationships, beliefs, and experiences that make me who I am. I want peace. I want balance. I want work that adds something to my life rather than requiring me to continually negotiate pieces of myself away.
And so, there’s this strange paradox in admitting all of this.
Right now, I’m still looking for my next career. There are days when I feel embarrassed or ashamed that I haven't figured everything out yet. But I’m also happy. Content, even.
The last time I was unemployed, uncertainty had me on the edge of my seat. I worried constantly about what would happen next. This time, however, I’m learning to deal with things as they come.
I used to think security meant knowing what was going to happen. Having the income. Having the plan. Having enough pieces in place that life couldn’t surprise me too much.
Now I’m beginning to understand that some of the security I was searching for externally has to come from within.
That doesn’t make uncertainty easy. Nor does it pay the bills or eliminate fear about the future. It also doesn’t mean losing my job secretly gave me this wonderful new life.
It didn’t.
I built this life. I had to put in work for it to get where I am now.
I worked on myself. I put the pieces back together. I tried things when I was uncomfortable. I learned what mattered to me and what didn’t. I started trusting myself differently.
And I don’t want to put a neat bow around an experience that never had one.
Maybe that’s part of the shift too. I’ve spent so much of my life thinking we’re supposed to have everything figured out. To make life look neat and orderly, without too many complication. But that’s not really living.
Life gets messy. Emotions run high. Plans change. We can be grateful for what we have and upset about what we don’t. We can genuinely enjoy the next chapter we’re in while hoping the next one brings something different.
Maybe being off the path doesn’t always mean you’ve lost your way.
Sometimes the path itself changes.
I still want many of the things I’ve always wanted. A career. Stability. Relationships. Adventures. A future I’m excited about. I just know that I’m not interested in reaching them at the expense of the life happening in between.
I don’t know where life will take me. But I know more about what I want than I ever have. And I’m no longer willing to negotiate the peace I’ve found just to make my life look like it’s going according to plan.
Now it’s your turn: Have you ever had your life take an unexpected turn and realized you were building something different than you thought? Share you experience in the comments, I’d love to hear what changed for you.
And remember to tune on Monday for the next chapter in The Things That Stay. Until then, I’m sending you good health, happiness, and adventure.
As a signature of my blog, I’d like to end this post with a suggestion to “Pass on kindness.” There’s no time like the present to Inspire Those Who Inspire You. Acts of kindness, no matter how big or small, can have a direct, positive impact on someone else. Go out there today and change someone’s life for the better!
***These are my personal opinions and may not be those of my employer.***
