Not This

I sat at my cold glass dining table under the glaring white lights, long into the cold of the night, writing a list of pros and cons with trembling hands. Earlier in the evening I had spent time debating with myself, praying to (more like screaming at) God, speaking with my roommate and crying endlessly. 

I was torn to pieces. 

I had thought - only a year and a half earlier - that I had found the perfect job.

Boy was I wrong.

As Elizabeth Gilbert says,

"Most of us, at some point in our lives (unless we have done everything perfectly...which is: nobody) will have to face a terrible moment in which we realize that we have somehow ended up in the wrong place — or at least, in a very bad place."

How many of us have ended up in this "bad place"? Face down. Exhausted. At the bottom. Feeling like you just HAVE to make a change. There is no more waiting.

Well I certainly did in 2014.

Not only did my situation end up less than ideal, it had turned toxic. 

It frankly wasn’t good for me: emotionally, physically (stress) or spiritually. 

Did I have any idea what I was going to do next? 

No.

Did I have a Plan B? 

No.

Did I have any idea how this decision would alter the future?

No.

But did I know I had to leave?

Absolutely.

It was a deep, gut wrenching sense of 

NOT THIS.

My heart, mind, body, soul - every part of me was screaming 

NOT THIS.

I had to get out. 

So I did.

By the end of that evening - before I even went to bed - I had a resignation letter drafted and ready to go for the morning. 

And I felt peace.

Yes I was terrified. I had no idea what I was going to do. And I absolutely did not want to leave my home - Cape Town, South Africa prematurely.

I was risking my entire life. The life I had spent so much time, heart and soul building. This decision could destroy it all in a moment.

Regardless of that, I knew the decision had to be made.

I had already waited too long. I had had that unmistakable sinking feeling after only a few months and had decided to hang on even as everything started slipping out of control.

I knew that even with the terrifying prospect of not knowing what was next, or how this decision would change things - that staying in my home would become increasingly difficult without a miracle - I absolutely had to listen to that gut feeling screaming, NOT THIS - because anything was better than where I found myself.

So when the moment came, I handed over my resignation letter without regret.

I knew I had done the right thing. And only relief swept over me as I walked away that day. 

Since I was at the bottom, I also knew, I could only improve.

Recently, my good friend, fellow blogger and awesome podcaster, Bryan Teare, creator of the Quarter Life Comeback, reminded me of a challenging post written by the wonderful Elizabeth Gilbert titled, Not This .

It struck a chord the first time I read it. And once again it is having the same effect all over again.

In the post she writes about the terrifying moments in life when you realize - NOT THIS.

When you find yourself on the floor emotionally or physically with the realization that something has to change. Must change. 

That you have to leave the job, end the toxic relationship, admit yourself into rehab, leave a community that is slowly poisoning you or walk away from a belief that once defined you but no longer does anymore.

That no matter what you do next, it’s NOT THIS.

In Elizabeths own words,

"If you keep ignoring the voices within you that say NOT THIS, just because you don't know what to do, instead...you may end up stuck in NOT THIS forever.

You don't need to know where you are going to admit that where you are standing right now is wrong.

The bravest thing to say can be these two words.

What comes next?

I don't know. You don't know. Nobody knows. It might be worse. It might be better. But whatever it is...? It's NOT THIS."

So are you getting the feeling that something needs to change? Are you in the middle of your personal NOT THIS moment right now? Have you ever experienced this in the past? If so, please tell me your stories if you feel comfortable below - I would love to hear about how you got to this point and made the change to get out.

Mundane, Yet Beautiful

Driving from Cape Town, South Africa to Victoria Falls, Zambia in a borrowed Toyota Land Cruiser (yes, we met the owner in a bar) was a crazy adventure.

Sleeping in our tents listening to the sound of content lion purrs after a kill, hyena's stalking the area yipping at each other and hippos crunching at the grass just a few yards from us was an experience unlike any other.

Flying over the Okavango Delta - one of those locations where National Geographic films from the sky - on a sightseeing flight, followed by a drunken evening with the pilots in town was an awesome experience.

Dealing with major car issues leading to a complete break down in the tiny town of Mahalapye, Botswana absolutely sucked, but naturally lead to the incredible experiences had by all when we were adopted twice - by a dairy farmer/restaurant owner and by a game farm owner where we spent time relaxing and enjoying time in their company.

Yes, these are some of the crazy stories that I love to tell and tend to catch the attention of those within earshot.

However, when I find myself alone and daydreaming - or just thinking about my time abroad - what do I think about? 

It tuns out I don't focus on these crazy adventures.

Instead my mind focuses on the mundane, yet beautiful, everyday moments.

Being smothered in motherly hugs and cuddles by my adoptive “nom” on her couch on a lazy Sunday afternoon, the air heavy with the spicy smell of delicious homemade Cape Malay curry.

The rough sand grinding against my feet as I run along the beach on my "normal post work run" near my home in Muizenberg at sunset, with the gail force wind whipping my face and only kite surfers to be found on the beach with me.

The delicious and smoky smell of meat - chicken, lamb, goat, almost anything - on the open braai’s (barbecues) lining the dusty streets of the townships we visited. 

The ridiculous and yet lovely crowd stopping, gold-toothed smile, laugh and “Welcome to Cape Town!!!” with full body motions, from the one and only Carol at the front desk at Once in Cape Town where I worked and lived.

The building voices and laughter of my friends in all of their distinct and beautiful accents as we sat in one of the many restaurants where we shared a meal.

The chaos and exhaustion of planning, prepping, cooking, and recreating classic foodie treats from scratch - sometimes with the wrong ingredients - so my roommate and I could host American style holiday gatherings - think 4th of July (in the middle of winter), Thanksgiving (in the spring), Cinco de Mayo, Christmas (in the summer) and much more - to crowds of 25+ people.

The feeling of the cold rock against my body and slippery ladder rungs gripped tightly, as I hid my fear of heights bringing some of our guests on a hike up Lion’s Head to take in the stunning views at sunset.

Collapsing on the couch, with rooibos tea in hand, the sweet yet subtle smell a reminder that I am home - to spend some quality quiet time by myself or with one of the three guys who allowed me to use their space as my own to "get away" from it all.

It turns out it wasn't the crazy storybook moments that mattered the most, rather it was moments like these that touched my heart and left a permanent mark on my soul.

These small, repetitive, rarely notable moments are the ones I cherish most.

They are also the ones most difficult to share with others. 

They are not moments I could Instagram easily or even categorize as something special - yet when it comes down to it, they are what sparks the most feeling.

In fact, I think for many of us it is small moments like these that we cherish.

Whether the smell of our grandfathers cologne or the way our moms' hand brushed our back as she hugged us day in and day out. Or the way our best friends made our bellies hurt from laughing as we lay in the grass during college. It is these moments that stick in our memories and stay with us through life.

So why don’t we value them more?

Often, it seems, we are instead looking for the next high - something that we can share with others. We look for excitement and new experiences.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore adventures and new experiences.

What I am suggesting however, is that rather than be looking for the next big adventure all the time we should also be paying attention to those small moments we experience in the present.

In the morning really taste your coffee and experience the flavor as it rolls over your tongue.

Appreciate the people you work with - their funny quirks and all.

Notice and appreciate the beautiful “smile lines” around your best friends glowing eyes as she grins.

Stop to smell the jasmine, orange blossoms, roses and other beautiful flowers that line the street on your evening run.

Appreciate the moments with your loved ones - the hugs, the warmth and the feeling of that person being close.

Because ultimately, life is fleeting and these become the moments we live for. 

“Sometimes, the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”

- Winnie the Pooh

 

How To Figure Out What You Want & The Magic Of Taking Action

Running along the beach, my feel pounding against the rough sand, my breath shallow and quick I found myself at a crossroads. My mind was overwhelmed. Tears were dragging backwards towards my ears as the wind tore at my face. At that moment all I could focus on was putting one foot in front of the other.

I was facing the most difficult decision of my life.

Not only was I considering a complete career change - that would dramatically alter the future - I was also choosing to turn away from what I considered at one point to be the “dream job”. What I had placed much of my identity upon. 

The job I was debating had seemed the perfect intersection of all of my interests; marketing, economic development, nonprofit work, entrepreneurship, mentoring, microcredit, my faith and to top it all off was located in my favorite city in the world - Cape Town, South Africa. 

It was a dream come true.

And yet, I was in the midst of making the decision to derail it. By my own hand.

Why?

Because I had known. I had known for a while at that point - that this was not the job for me. That as “perfect” as it had appeared on paper, it did not match up to who I was or what I wanted and needed out of life. However, I was afraid. 

I was afraid to step away from the thing I had told everyone was “perfect for me”. I was afraid of what THEY would think!

I had uprooted and moved my entire life from Santa Barbara, California to Cape Town, South Africa at great cost to me and with a huge amount of support from friends and family all over the country. I was sending out monthly newsletters updating my network about what was going on in my life and all the great things happening at work and in the world I was now a part of.

It seemed too big to give up on. Too big to turn away from. Too big to admit that something was wrong.

I wanted to be wrong. I wanted the gut feeling to be inaccurate - for it to just be some indigestion or a fleeting thought. That God would show me the truth and my uncanny feeling would be wrong.

Instead, it just got stronger. 

Which is what led me to the moment on the beach.

As I stood there, completely alone, with the sound of crashing waves echoing in my ears, feeling the icy water rush up around my feet and my toes sink into the grainy and heavy sand, I felt hopeless.

I had tried so hard and managed to get to my DREAM. Managed to do THE IMPOSSIBLE. And yet, it wasn’t right.

I felt like an ungrateful child of the universe. Like there was something wrong with me. THIS was supposed to be the moment of feeling fulfilled and on top of the world, of knowing I had found my calling.

Instead, I was experiencing the utter disappointment of realizing my “dream” wasn’t actually what I wanted. 

Admitting that to myself felt shocking and like an impending identity crisis (which it totally was), yet I knew it was the right decision with all my heart and soul.

So on Monday I walked in with a resignation letter ready and resigned.

Was it difficult? Yes.

Was I worried about what people thought about me? Yes.

Did I feel like a complete and utter failure? Yes.

Did I wallow in sadness and disappointment with myself? Yes.

But I did it. And I am so happy I did.

A few months after some soul searching, reading and really getting creative, I finally found something that forced me to grow in completely new ways and blessed me in more ways than I could have ever planned (isn’t God so awesome?!).

Now, just over a year and a half later since the beach moment, I am back in Santa Barbara, California - missing my Cape Town home and family - but also happy and in such a different place emotionally, physically, intellectually, spiritually - than I was before.

Not only did I reach my goal (which is incredible in itself - I mean I freaking managed to move and work in South Africa!), I also learned a HUGE amount about who I am.

I gave it a shot and it didn’t work. But thats ok.

Recently in BSCHOOL, Marie Forleo said, 

“Behave your way to success and the belief will follow.”

Jeff Goins recommends this process:

• You do it.
• You believe it.
• You become it.

Starting before your ready seems to be a common theme, and for good reason. By putting yourself out there and DOING something you get to test the waters out for yourself. 

Think about this - rather than have someone tell you the hot tub is absolutely lovely and you imagine the way the warm water and jets must feel - you actually get in the tub and experience it. And the funny thing is, you may hate it - or you may love it just as much as the next person.

It is the experience that differentiates you. It is what makes you different from the dreamer who never touches her toes to the water. 

Which is why I find myself incredibly thankful for my ex-dream job. I learned that what I thought I wanted, wasn’t actually IT, which has since set me on a path much more aligned with who I believe I am.

“You don’t think your way into clarity. Clarity comes with action.” Jeff Goins

The necessary action was for me to take this job and move halfway around the world in order to discover that what I thought was the ultimate dream, really wasn’t…at least not for me.

And that is ok.

At least I gave it a shot.

Because I would rather have given it a shot, failed and continued to move forward with new goals rather than to have never tried and still be stuck on the same “dream”.

And who knows, maybe this next dream will be another hiccup along the journey of life and will become my second ex-dream. But at the same time, maybe it won’t. Maybe I will have the found the thing that makes my soul sing.

Until then, at least I will know that I have tried.

Do you have any examples of ex-goals? Things you thought you wanted, tried and then realized weren’t for you? Let me know in the comments below.

Some links to check out:

Marie Forleo: BSCHOOL

Jeff Goins: The Best Way to Not Become a Writer (and What to Do Instead)