A note from Lamisha: Today I am beyond honored to share a post from one of my beautiful clients.  Carrie has an incredible story to share and I am so happy she has allowed me to share it with you.  Read. Enjoy. And reflect on how you too can create the life of your dreams, even if it means you have to do something that scares you. 

“Oh shit, what am I going to do now?” That’s exactly what I said about 30 seconds after I quit my job. Actually it was probably closer to 30 minutes after I quit my job. That first half hour I was too giddy and shocked to have any particularly well formed thought.

Once the relative high of making a life altering decision started to dissipate and reality began to rear its scary head I began to process the huge leap I had just dared to take.

And that’s when I said it: Oh shit oh shit ohshitohshit what did I just do?

After the immediate post-quitting freak-out ebbed and I was well into the journey of “figuring it out”, I continued to pepper my inner dialogues and daily conversations with, you guessed it, “oh shit”.

It took me a long time to finally quit my job. Days, weeks, months of vacillating between “I can’t believe the crap I have to deal with every day, I should just quit” and “I love the work I do and the people I work with and I’ll never find another good job so I can’t just quit” kept me frozen in place. The mere thought of quitting my job without another lined up made me hyperventilate with panic because I’m a control freak and generally need to know what I’m doing and when I’m doing it.

I’m one of those folks who thinks spontaneity has it’s place and time. So when I did quit my job, when I finally realized that the reason I was breaking down physically and mentally was due to the stress of my daily work life, I panicked. Suddenly having no job, no income, no benefits, no schedule, no reason to get up in the morning felt like the rug really had been pulled out from under my feet. And I was the one who did the pulling!!

Along with feeling panicked I felt guilty: guilty that I wasn’t doing what I should be doing. Yes, I was ‘should-ing’ all over myself every day. How dare I shirk my responsibilities? What right do I have to take time for self care and self-reflection?

I come from a family of extremely successful overachievers. My brothers are both doctors with thriving practices who work their butts off every day and here I am, the screw up sister who decided to ditch her job and lounge around doing nothing while spending her savings to pay the bills. The responsible me was frantically insisting I look for a job, any job, right now.

Fortunately there was an inner voice, the nurturing me, very small but very persistent, that managed to be heard over the cacophony of responsible thoughts. That voice was telling me it was time to stop the self-destructive cycle and make a change. After a great deal of protest and inner toil, I finally listened.

And so began my (still ongoing) journey to self discovery. Fortunately, I realized a couple of really important things relatively early on.

First, it takes time. I’ll say it again. IT. TAKES. TIME.

It took a long time for me to realize that I actually needed to stop for a while and give myself the chance to heal, to nourish my body and soul and bring myself back up to great health and emotional wellbeing. If I didn’t give myself the oxygen mask, I wouldn’t have the capacity to do the work required to move forward.

You’ve probably heard this a million times but I think it’s a concept that can’t be stressed enough. I allowed myself the time for self care; yoga, meditation, sleep, sitting on the couch and reading a good book, having lunch with a friend, spending time with my family, knitting, whatever it was that made me feel whole. To be sure, it wasn’t easy to be so generous and gentle with myself; that guilty voice was whispering, sometimes shrieking, in my head most days but I managed to keep my health in mind and shove it aside.

During this time I started working with Lamisha, my spirit guide/cheerleader/teacher/coach extraordinaire. In one of my many emails to her I described all that I was doing during this time of renewal as “pulling back the rubber band”.

I was working on my health and wellbeing, yes, but I was also thinking a lot about what I might want to do going forward. I wrote down ideas, no matter how far fetched, I dreamed and fantasized and talked to friends about my ideas to give them life. I researched Meetups and other groups in areas of interest, I spent time in places I loved like my favorite knitting store to find joy and inspiration. I perused beautiful magazines, crafting websites and blogs because looking at beautiful handmade things makes me deliriously happy. I gave myself a set period of time in which to nurture body, mind and soul and at the end of that time I felt ready to let that rubber band fly.

And this brings me to point number 2, Trust.

Trust the process. Bullshit, right? Believe me, when I tell you I had a very hard time refraining from poking my incredibly loving and supportive boyfriend right in the eye when he uttered those words to me. But it’s true and the only way you’ll see for yourself is to, well, trust the process.

When you’re smack in the middle of the process, you can’t see your progress. You have no perspective which is why it’s imperative to check in with people who really know you, who you, um, trust, to give you feedback as you make your way down your path.

It’s been a huge challenge to trust that the energy I’m putting into this big, huge, amazing journey will eventually produce results, open doors, provide opportunities. When I first started reaching out to people for input, advice, potential work, a favor, I eagerly awaited a reply and would find myself losing a bit of confidence as each day passed with no response. I sometimes felt downright dejected (and rejected).

Eventually, most people did respond in one way or another which taught me a critical lesson. Everyone has their own lives, schedules and priorities. The agenda that firmly occupies my front burner every day is most likely sitting on or close to their back burner so now I release the slingshot and then sit tight. I don’t write someone off if they don’t respond in a day, a week, even a month. My communication may land in someone’s inbox or voicemail the day their car died or they’re working on an all-consuming project at work. Or maybe my message will only become relevant to them in a few months when a change–a job opening, a new idea– prompts them to give me a call.

I still don’t know exactly where I’ll land next but here’s the difference between now and when I made the leap a few months ago; I’m a happier, healthier person than I’ve been in ages. I no longer question my decision to quit (no more “oh shit”) and, instead, embrace the journey.

I have days of great progress and excitement and days of disappointment and fear and know that this is normal and part of the process. I reach out to friends and family for help when I need it. I do what makes me feel good and enjoy each new adventure this brings. This journey is, by no means, easy. It’s messy and scary and sometimes I want to throw in the towel and just get a job doing what I was doing before.

But the journey is also inspiring, and enlightening and has taught me about myself beyond measure. So I persist. I can’t wait to see what happens next!