I left my old job one year ago today. Me, walking out the door:
I started my new job five days later. I seriously underestimated the difficulty of transitioning from a job in which I was an expert to a job where I knew exactly nothing. My confidence was shattered there for a while. But a year later, I know more than nothing and my confidence has picked itself up from the floor and found the elevator button.
Apart from that long experience of shakiness, it has been good, good, good. I enjoy the work and my co-workers are solid folks. The environment and pace of work is humane; busy, of course, but uninfected by “hustle culture.”
I have had cause a million times over the past year to thank the powers of my life that Rachel and I took the opportunity when it presented itself. One example: it would have been overwhelming (perhaps breaking?) to have gone through the experience of Mom’s sudden worsening and the experience of living with her for two weeks while still working at the old job. Seriously. It would have been bad.
While a “return to work” rule change was the nominal reason for my departure, it became clear to me that was only the presenting cause which revealed a deeper sickness. The speed and way in which I got the new job was clear evidence to Rachel and me that the spirits were at work in our lives. It will go down as one of the most remarkable confluence of events in our lives and I am tremendously grateful.