Have you ever read something that so closely aligned with your soul that when you read it, your first inclination is to raise a hand and say “preach?”
While James Victore, Feck Perfuction book (Affiliate Link)* inspires many of these moments for me, his “Freedom is something you take” essay feels like it was written for me at this exact point in my life. Could this be my career and life manifesto?
Here’s one excerpt from that essay that succinctly sums up my career aspirations:
“We want the freedom to do the work that’s in our hearts and get paid for our gifts, not our ability to punch a clock.” —James Victore
The essay continues about how we spend entire our lives waiting for permission or the perfect moment that never comes. How freedom is something that we take through bold and brave leaps. How freedom is the reward for believing in yourself and your voice.
I was bold, but with an expiration date of two months. Does that even qualify as boldness?! I promised my husband that I would return to work at the end of October if I weren’t able to find a job that sparks joy or a way to make money.
So, how has the first month of my “sabbatical” gone? Quickly.
In the past week, I’ve begun feeling anxious and afraid that I haven’t done what I need to do and that I will resume my career with another un-fulfilling job. A job that is just a paycheck. A job that takes me away from the work that I love. A job that takes me further away from freedom.
I’ve also started to rationalize a return to a well-paying, unfulfilling job as a means to fund the career and life coaching that I probably need. However, would this be me giving up all of the growth from me becoming someone that believes in herself and her voice? Is it time to temporarily abandon my quest?
Ugh, freedom! I do want the freedom to do the work that’s in my heart. The prospect of working as a freelancer or independent analyst seems like a way to actualize this. However, when I full consider these paths, my mind quickly began to list and tally all of my perceived deficiencies and missing skills.
I’m socially awkward. I don’t have a big network. I’m afraid to discuss money. I don’t have anything of value to offer. Pretty much, a lot of “I’m not worthy” shit.
Another part of me believes, though, that I can push through all of these doubts, acquire the skills that I need, and create a life that I love. That I can persevere. And, at the end of these struggles, a kick-ass redemption story awaits. The kind of story that would make my kids proud.
Maybe I can become someone who believes in herself and her voice?