Skip to main content

Jumping In

Jump in, honey! I’m right here.


Jamie’s voice echoed above the splashes in the indoor public pool where 3 year-old Georgia was taking swimming lessons. Pigtails on either side of her head created alien like bulges through her orange swim cap. She stood at the pool’s edge, stooped over...thinking, weighing the options...and not jumping.

Can’t say I blame her. Ground is solid, secure; while water, no matter who’s standing in it waiting to catch you, isn’t.

But solid isn’t truly solid if you think about it. Earthquakes happen and whole buildings tumble. Floods sweep villages away; and tornadoes and avalanches even use what’s solid to ground themselves and wreak havoc.

Clinging to what’s solid can be a dangerous proposition - in nature and in your career.

I imagine my daughter, stooped, overthinking, weighing her options, missing out on the fun she could’ve had, had she just jumped into her daddy’s waiting arms. The scene was my mirror.

What I saw was myself clinging onto a solid, toes with a deathgrip curl on the edge even as water tickled at them...even as I knew a couple of things about living:

that tomorrow isn’t promised -- and neither is my good health.
that I’ve got more years of living behind me than I do ahead.
that the solid a job provides isn’t really solid. Human disasters - like natural ones - are always a threat.
and
that’s life’s just too bleeping short to only watch while hanging onto an illusion of security.

So I handed in my notice after fifteen years on the job.

I’ve been asked What’s next? What are you going to do?

For now, I think I’ll just jump in, enjoy a swim and worry about what’s next when the time comes.



Comments

  1. So I guess you have time for lunch now?
    I am proud of you.
    BIG FAT HUGS.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Lunch, dinner, mid-morning snacks, second-dinner -- you name it!
      Thank you.
      BIG OL HUGS RIGHT BACK ATCHA.

      Delete
  2. Well alright now!! Congrats to you sis!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. YES!!! I am so excited for you. Trust your path, take that leap, grow your wings, see where you land ALL THE METAPHORS.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. YES!! ALL THE METAPHORS AND A FEW SIMILES TOO!
      Thanks, Ann.
      xo

      Delete
  4. Congrats and best wishes on what's next! Xoxoxo

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Leigh Ann..it's gonna be an exciting adventure!

      Delete
  5. You're going to be busy, so I'm booking you for lunch on your first day of freedom. See you at The Chocolate Factory, friend, where it all started!!

    ReplyDelete
  6. As it should be, Alexandra. As it should be.
    Looking forward to it, friend...and thank you.
    xo

    ReplyDelete
  7. Congrats! Life is too short to NOT do the work that satisfies your soul!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Make the most of the time we've been given...
      Thank you, Daphne

      Delete
  8. Oh what a BEAUTIFUL way to describe your decision!!! I am just SO excited for you to enter a new season of life!! You just enjoy that water for now... bask in that goodness, as the next chapter awaits. <3

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Christine; and I'm gonna do exactly that!
      xo

      Delete
  9. What a pretty way of stating things. I look forward to following your blog.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Samantha!
      ...and thank you for following. :)

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

What 6 Christmas Songs Got Wrong

After Thanksgiving, a birthday party last week, another birthday party this week and Christmas coming up next week, I am officially overwhelmed. It'd take more time than I have to explain what yet needs to be done and if you're like me, you're probably overwhelmed and don't have the time nor inclination to read it all anyway. But even with an overflowing plate, I still love the Christmas season -- from setting up the Christmas tree that we got two weeks ago and decorated only yesterday, to lighting bayberry scented candles, to every Rankin & Bass Christmas Special, and the music. Oh, the music. Songs have a way of putting you in the Christmas spirit, warming your heart and next thing you know, you're hugging a stranger in the elevator. Okay, um...maybe that's just me. But alas, all songs are not created equal; and the following Christmas songs inspire and awaken anything but peace on earth and goodwill to men. 1. Christmas Shoes : This song makes my

Racism & Prejudice: Brothas from a Different Mother

Next week I’m attending  a seminar on defining racism. Should be interesting because: 1) I’ve been living in the skin I’m in for nearly 43 years and I’d like to hear about any advancements on the topic; and 2) back in college, some class I took defined racism as movement, advancement or otherwise being prevented and/or restricted based upon race .  Embedded in the definition was that racism took two parties – someone in power (the racist) and someone whose rights were being violated. So according to that definition, racism is an action , not an attitude . One is a disabling trespass while the other is prejudice . I tend to agree. It’s my belief that Martin Luther King and the thousands of civil rights fighters stood up against racism . They stood up against actions that prevented people from the pursuit of happiness – whether that meant voting, drinking from a common bubbler, or not ending up as Strange Fruit on a Poplar tree when all they wanted to do was get from P

The Moments That Are Given

Mom! It’s graffiti! It’s art... on a shoe ! I have to try it on. Please...can I? It was my 12 year old’s first foray into heels. A big moment in our little lives. Working full-time when she was an infant had stolen other big-little moments from my camera’s eye -- the first time she rolled over, the first time she sat up unassisted...the first firsts. Newly, gladly and willfully unemployed for the first time in 15 years, I took a picture. The picture wasn’t as much of an attempt to catch up on lost firsts, but rather a net to capture a butterfly’s moment of the moment; because if history skips a generation and the math holds out, there are more years behind me than ahead. My mom died at 63. Her mom died at 47. I’m 46. I’ve checked all over my person for a stamped expiration date, from the flabby inside parts of my arms, to the backs of my knees and other parts of my anatomy that shall remain nameless here.  There is no such date. Yet, there is a possibil