Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on relief.
A lot of people are asking me if I feel relief now that things are "starting to calm down". But, after three years of so much stress and one full year of, "oh my God, what is happening", my mind and body still think we are living in buildings that are on fire. I do not feel relief. I feel really worried.
Speaking to a friend that went through this career transition herself, and leaving a role that left her feeling like her nerves were sizzling, she said that it and therefore I will feel like this for a really long time. It will not be a switch and even though you are ready and you want it, your body isn't sure what is going on, so it's still in fight/flight and will stay there.
It will feel like you are still living in your own world of hell. You will feel like it's all going to come crashing down around you a lot. You will not be able to problem-solve for a while. You will continue to feel like you can't keep up. Sleep will get better, then worse, then better again. Nightmares will eventually start to come less often. There will be times you will feel like you are doing it right and there will be times you will feel like you're in trouble again and that, that right there, will be overwhelming. You will feel like you will get in trouble, like you've done something wrong and you will go into a panic, like a child getting scolded. You will panic.
There will be times you will forget this is yours now, you answer to you only. There will be times you will look around to figure out who to turn to and you will realize there isn't anyone down the hall. You will have to reach out Sabrina, you will have to ask others what they will do because you will feel stuck and unable to process.
There will be times it will feel really good and those times will become more and more of the norm, but it will take a lot of undoing to get there.
Her advice, feel it all. Feel sad and blue and worried and happy and calm and radiate your light and hunker down and go inward and put yourself out there. Eventually, it will even out. But for now, relief won't come just because the calendar tells you it's time. That's not how the body and mind work. That's not how people who have high standards for themselves and their careers work.
She reminded me I'm worried because I care. I care about what I'm leaving and I care about what I'm building. And who doesn't want a little care in the world, a little care about the work you're putting out there. A little care. So ask others, ask those in it and ask those that are not. You will get there, you can do it, you have been doing it, and eventually, your body will settle down. You will feel it melt a little. You will be less on edge, you will laugh more, you feel a little lighter. The foot will lift off of your chest, but do not be delusional...it took a lot to get you to this spot and it will take even more to get it to go away.
The good news, you like quiet so you will seek it. You like how your body feels when it's not clenched so you will find ways to get there. The good news, I have always surrounded myself by those who are smarter than I am. Relief will come, just give it time.
Yes, my body's burning down,
and some might think it hell,
but you will not see me frown
for I am living well.
The days ahead have been proscribed,
and will be marked by cancer,
but with will, life's not denied,
and I'll go out a dancer,
rockin' out to halcyon days
of which each moment's to enjoy
despite all the brutal ways
that illness seeks to destroy
the pleasure of each moment lived
and all the love that's yet to give.
FEEL IT ALL... Holy moly, this is POWERFUL advice. Profound, terrifying and empowering all at once!