I Quit My Job …. To Work Instead

I had been thinking about quitting my job for a long time.  I left for a number of reasons, but mainly, because I was bored stiff.  I stopped growing; I felt I was not making an impact; and I did not have time to pursue my passion – art and writing.  And I kept getting sick — my body was telling me something.

If you are still not sure if you work or have a job, take this little test when you get up tomorrow morning:

1)  Did you jump out of bed after the alarm rang without hitting the snooze button and returning to bed?

2)  Did you sit at the edge of your bed and say to yourself, “Gee, I love my job.  I can’t wait to get there!”

A job is what people do to out of necessity; work is what people should be doing instead.  Work is healthy and is in alignment with Living Life on Purpose. True life work is a stepping stone, building from one experience to the next, and brings people closer to their life purpose and true satisfaction.

It took me eight years, but I finally let go of the fear, quit my job, and finally started working instead!   I am working at what I love to do, which is helping others, making a positive impact in my community, finally able to utilize my undergrad and GreenMBA skills, and the freedom to paint it all over with creativity, innovation, and fun . . . and I get paid for this.  I love my work!

A Shot A Day Melts the Fat Away

I’ve been busy “Living Life on Purpose,” including grad school, accepting a job in a pre-K position this summer, and creating my own art studio.  Follow me on another blog I have created:  “A Shot A Day Melts the Fat Away.”  It is a 23-day weight loss program that I am really excited about.  By Phase II, Day 2, I have already weighed in 3.2 pounds lighter than I started.

Oscar Links My Past to Present

January, 2007, I was recommended for a position at Central Garden Convalescent Home in San Francisco by my art instructor at Dominican University.  I taught art to elders who were mainly wheelchair bound.  I absolutely loved working with my diverse group of artists ranging in age from their late 50s to an ex-librarian that was over 100.  Week after week, my desire to share what I learned as an artist grew with the enthusiasm I received from my home bound elders.  The art they were producing was outstanding; mind you, some of my students were physically handicapped, may not have had use of their writing hand due to paralysis, suffered from Alzheimer’s, or were so heavily medicated, they fell asleep in their paintings.  The more I worked with these beautiful people, the more I began to  realize that I complained way too much about mediocre things in my daily living;  I realized I had choices in my life and could create anything I put my mind to; and I realized that “I” was actually the student and they were my teachers.

After one of my art sessions as I was heading for the front doors of the convalescent home, I nearly jumped out of my shoes when an alarm blasted throughout the corridor.  A staff person ran past me to retrieve one of the patients that was too close to the front door and guided her back to her room.  I heard her say, “Now, Mrs. Morris.  How many times do we have to tell you, you can’t go home.”  As Mrs. Morris was escorted away from the exit, I noticed something around her ankle.  For her safety, she had been equipped with a thick ankle bracelet that would alert the staff before she escaped.

Bloggers Block

When I started this blog, I had so many ideas that I wanted to share, but when I finally got to sit down at my computer to compose, “BLANK” — bloggers block.   Where did all those great ideas go, I think to myself at 6 a.m. in the morning trying to jot a few lines down before work.  The afternoon isn’t any better — homework, dinner, and pure exhaustion gets in the way.  I even  struggle to clean out my in-boxes to maintain my “zero” in-box status.

It’s 9:00 p.m. and I’m already in bed.  Wait …. Keiko’s email catches my eye, and I open it.  Keiko sends me great stuff — I always file her emails in a folder to pass onto others.  This time Keiko sends me a link to a story about a cat named Oscar.

I am sitting up in bed with my laptop propped up on several pillows to meet my gaze.  As I read the attachment, little does Oscar know that his life story carries me back in time reminding me of the day I began Living Life on Purpose. My bloggers block lifts –  I am excited about the ideas coming to mind.  I have something valuable to share with my readers.  But for now, my own cat, Otis, has curled up at the foot of my bed and covers his eyes with his paw to let me know my reading light is bothering him.

More tomorrow ~ good night.

What will be your first intention?

Today at work, I got an overwhelming feeling to write a blog about creating intentions.  I even had a name for it:  Living Life on Purpose.  I resisted the thought that quickly came to mind, “When are you going to find the time?”  I was already working full-time, interning for another company, and in graduate school.  But the feeling wouldn’t go away.  Perhaps, I had something to share that someone out there needed to hear.

Not too long ago, I was miserable — I had lost my identity.  Sure I was a scholar in grad school and taking care of my family, but something was missing.  I realized that I loved teaching and wanted to work in that capacity again.  I made my intention in my journal and waited patiently interview after interview, disappointment after disappointment, but I did not lose faith.  Instead, I planned my commute to work, what I was going to wear, and where I would be having my morning coffee, just as if I already had the job.   If I focused on the 10% unemployment rate instead, I may not have succeeded.