it feels like open hands.

"finding things and losing things is what the bible is all about. god even seemed to encourage it. he talked about losing your job, or even your life, if you want to find it."

the bible doesn't specifically mention your career in the part about losing your life, but that was the illustration bob goff used in this particular chapter of love does. as i (re)read through it over the weekend, it hit me like the obvious truth that it is.

losing your life, in a more practical way, means quitting things. a job, a relationship, bad habits. letting them go, good things or bad things, means making room.

you have to lose it if you want to find it.


you can quit anything on a thursday. do you know about this?

in my case, it was a wednesday and it was my job.

i didn't wake up that morning with the intention of quitting, and while i had entertained the idea for many months, i hadn't planned on actually saying anything about it yet. i was waiting. waiting to understand it, waiting to have the right words, waiting to know what happens next.

i didn't have any of that, but something in me made me want to say, "let's talk about this." right then, on a wednesday afternoon.

and so i did.

it was framed like a conversation. there were a lot of things seemingly understood between my boss and i, but i wanted to speak those things out loud. i wanted to lay everything out on the table so each of us could say things we wanted to say and decide what to do from there. i wasn't giving my notice. i was, technically, just asking questions by way of making statements.

"it's not working out," is what i said.

so what now? is what i meant.

in the end, it felt like a mutual agreement. i would look for another job, they would look for someone to replace me, and we would figure it out from there.


i moved to nashville with this job.

it started as a thing i daydreamed about during class in my final semester of college and turned into this mind blowing thing that was, somehow, my real life. i've had a lot of incredible opportunities and gotten to work with the best people, directly and indirectly, inside and outside the office.

and then, slowly, and also suddenly, it became something i had to let go of.

it's been somewhat of a theme for me recently: letting go of things i never thought i'd let go of, not knowing what happens next. it's a hard and sometimes recurring process. i choose, over and over, to loosen my grip, to let go, to make room. it's uncomfortable, yet hopeful.

it feels like empty hands, with palms facing up, trusting that what comes next is better than what's passed through my fingertips, almost but not quite.


two months ago, i walked out of my boss's office, thrilled and terrified, not having any idea what i was going to do next but so excited to find out.

today, i walk out of the office, and this is it.

this is what happens next.