The 'Work'

There is a very specific moment where you usually leave yourself.

It’s not when everything is calm.

It’s when you try to protect yourself from disappointment.

I applied to a career changing role that I had a really good feeling about - BUT at the same time, I didn't want to get my hopes up.

I did my best to stay neutral but I knew I'd be disappointed if I wasn't chosen. I (like most of us) have multiple years of lived proof where I have not been chosen and my nervous system remembers...

Lately, my mind had shifted. I couldn't explain why, but I didn't as feel vulnerable as I recently had. I really felt confident in my capacity to manage the potential disappointment of not getting the role. So I shrugged off any pressure, and carried on my day to day as weeks went by after applying.

After my intial screening conversation, I knew I had a real shot and nervous flickers of hope began. Two weeks to prepare for a panel interview, I let myself play out both scenarios. I let myself be excited in moments AND test the weight of disappointment in others. I agreed that either way, whatever happens is in my best interest. This was particularly convincing since I'm DIY'ing my 60 person wedding in September and 3 week honeymoon adventure immediately after.

After the interview, I felt good but knew that I wouldn't hear for about a week, which eliminated any 'notification anxiety' in the waiting period. I then noticed that I was leading myself with quiet confidence - letting a few 'when I get this scenario's' slip out but not replaying the interview over and over and I didn't bring it up constantly in conversation.

On the Sunday before I heard back, I woke up with an overwhelming feeling of grief. It hit me like a head cold. I had reasons but I didn't question them further. The deep knowing was enough - to stop holding, time to let go. I laid crystals on my chest, pulled some cards, lit some sandalwood, and spent the morning crying on the couch. It felt healing and intentional.

That night, I noticed space. The lump in my throat was gone. My head was clear. I was grounded. I opened my calendar, chose a date and wrote "First Day" with a cool guy sunglasses emoji.

Monday morning, whispers of "today's the day" returned my 'notification anxiety', but still, business as usual - workout, groceries, dog walk.

When I got home, I deposited my paycheck from my last two weeks: $400. I looked at it and said, "This is the last paycheck I'm depositing without knowing what the next one will be. I'm so grateful to have received this cheque, but this is the last one where I question how will I make this work."

Three hours later, my phone buzzed and I saw the email preview... "Congratulations, we are pleased to offer...". And there it was - new proof.

I did a little dance, let out a 'WOOOO' and ran over to the mirror to celebrate with myself. I met myself in reflection with tearing eyes. They were full of joy, pride, and hope and I actually surprised myself while recognizing this woman. Right there and then I realized how many years it had been since I've felt like her. And she f*cking nailed it. She knows not to question herself. She does in-fact lean back and trust in uncertainty.

Looking back at this whole process, I noticed how 'unattached' to the outcome I was. Let's squash this idea that being detached means not having emotional buy in to what happens. Unrealistic. It means really believing you'll be okay no matter what happens. It means feeling depressurized through acceptance of things you can't control. All of this reinforced proof that this 'practice of staying' helps detach from the outcome and reattach to our self-trust.

I don't believe that I magically 'made' this happen. I am however, SO proud of how I showed up for it.

And no, I don't give the credit to 'manifesting' either (although I do find it validating that the day I selected in my calendar IS actually the start date on my contract). There were an infinite number of moments and decisions - impossible to track - that had to fall into place to meet this result. All I can reflect on is the ones that I was responsible for.

Yes - I'm proud of how I didn't compromise on my non-negotiables in my job search settings, even though at times I wanted to, and all the effort I put in preparing for the interview to set me up for success - but those efforts probably total about 2 or 3 days.

If you think that is 'the work', you're missing the point.

Not too long ago, I started to believe the vulnerability I felt daily was permanent and the idea of disappointment was paralyzing.

Sure, setting boundaries and preparation takes work, but what moved me from vulnerability to capacity is really the practice. It was the 20 months of countless hours and insignificant moments of consistently showing up for ME. It's doing what I say I'm going to do - like getting out of bed with my alarm or hitting my 3L water goal. It's having the hard conversations so I don't mentally burnout spinning in assumptions and stories. It's showing up for a workout even when I'm feeling stiff, and modifying exercises instead of eliminating. It's practicing these things while fighting with perfectionism, and directing myself through the discomfort of not knowing if I'm doing it right. It's hearing my nervous system say "don't", but moving forward an inch in the right direction anyway.

So I ask that you join me in a toast - I celebrate this new role as what I was working towards professionally, and also all the work it took for me to reunite with the woman in my reflection, who is now me, and who I get to lead through the beginning of a new chapter.