An invitation to rest

I can hear the rain gently falling on the window. A calm, pitter patter that soothes the senses. The world looks grey, bleary and beckons us to stay inside. To rest a while. To take off your shoes, curl up with a good book while all the dust and pollen and pollutants are washed clean, and the earth made fresh and whole.

In my own life, I've recieved this same invitation to rest. No doubt many of you could tell in my last blog post how exhausted I was. It was true - I was at the end of my energy reserves. I knew that something was going to have to give. This time, I knew it would not be me, my health, or my family. That left one option: in mid-March I left my job.

It was one of the most difficult decisions I have ever made. I truly loved my job (or perhaps 85% of it). Unfortunately, that other 15% that I didn't like was starting to loom larger and larger - demanding more time and energy than I had to give. Since my seizure in December, I hadn't recovered fully. I had issues with high level cognition, memory, and concentration. The harder I tried to make things work at work the more that any modicum of success seemed to elude me. I was crying on a daily basis - exhausted from the moment I woke up to when I would crawl into bed. I had no energy for even the simple things of life - and that worried me. I became increasingly concerned that I was going to have a seizure, and that is never a good place to be.

I raised this with my boss and with HR - hoping, praying that something else in the organization could be found that would be a better match. But, alas, that was not to be. The pace of my organization was increasing across the board - and I knew that simply changing jobs internally wasn't really going to give me the balance I needed. So it was with heavy heart, but ultimately a lot of understanding and compassion from those at work, that I left.

It has been a wonderful choice. When I first left, I felt like a failure. So many other women can do the working mom thing, why couldn't I? What kind of example was I setting for my daughter? How was I helping my family by leaving this job that I so enjoyed? Well, for one, I feel more like myself than I have in years.

I recognized that in leaving my work, my life and body was calling me to come away, to rest a while. And it has been good. I have been more present to my family and friends in simple ways that I had forgotten. I have energy to call people in the evening, or to do little things around the house that have been bugging me forever. And since my seizure two years ago, and the birth of my child, for the first time in a long time I feel physically and emotionally healed. I don't feel like the edge of my soul is worn ragged - snagging on every little inconvenience life throws my way. Instead, I've been told by a few people that there is a light in my eyes that hasn't been there for some time.

Sure, as a mom, I am tired, but it is the good tired you feel when you know your day and life has been worth living. I haven't done anything in terms of worldly success - no published papers, no tasks at work checked off. But I have been there for myself and those I love - and that has made all the difference.

Now - onto the interesting quest of finding a job with a culture that is a better fit for me. Somewhere where my desire to have meaningful work - but work that is not overshadowed by my life - possible. Where I can help others recognize truths in themselves to be the people they are meant to be; sharing their gifts and talents with those around them.

Also for any moms who read this - feel free to comment about how you either succeed or fail at this whole working mom/work-life balance thing. I think the reality of this all is not something that is discussed nearly enough.