Breaking Through

I once had a job where I hit my head on the (metaphorical) ceiling so often that I wondered if I’d end up with a permanent bruise or bump. There were a lot of reasons that ceiling was in place, and after years of trying, I had to admit there was no way to break through. With no way to move up, I had to decide what to do instead.

Fight or flight?

In the end, I chose flight. I chose to leave that job, with all of the stability and comfort, for  a world of completely unknown #WhatsNext. Because the benefits of full-time work were just not worth it any more.

It is like the advice that parents will give to a child who is being bullied. To walk away. To find help.

And just like a child on the playground, that was hard advice to follow. Because walking away felt like running away. It felt like giving up. It felt like wimping out on a fight that had felt worth it.

Sometimes, running away can be brave. It can mean no longer sacrificing your life for a war that cannot be won. And instead of enjoying the comfort of knowing where I would be sitting for the next 20 or 30 years, there were months of not knowing where I was going. Actually it was over two years before I landed in a new normal, and I am still finding my roots there.

I’ve been seeing more and more Queen’s Anne Lace during my walks and runs lately, including the seemingly lost plant from the photo in this post. Most are gathered in groups, planted together in their garden and swaying together in the evening breeze. But this won was growing at the edge of a driveway. The first plant near a home that had recently been built. It was starting its own garden, and I don’t know what will happen next for this brave little plant.

I don’t know what’s going to happen to me either. But I do know what would have happened in the place I left. And I know that my head doesn’t have any bumps, bruises, or scars to worry about.

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