Letting Go and Welcoming In

 In the time since I stepped away from my career to focus on obtaining my degree, I have been witness to ongoing shifts in my understanding of who I am.  They have often been tiny and easy to overlook, but the feelings that accompany them are not.  The fact that it has only been three months since I made this overhaul surprises me because I have a hard time believing that the Kerri of the past existed at all.  She feels so far removed from where I find myself these days.  It is that realization that has led me to make other changes in areas of my life.

I am overjoyed to be working on a part-time basis at a non-alcoholic bottle shop in an eclectic area of town.  Before each shift, I look forward to being surrounded by the positive vibes and energy of the shop and feeling like I am furthering education and empowerment for those who are in search of an alternative to alcohol.  I remarked the other day that working was fun - and quickly realized how long it had been since I said (or meant) anything along those lines.  Many, many years.  Years spent trying to make things work that weren't.  Years spent hoping that the next iteration of my career path would lead to the magical place where purpose and role intersected.  Years trying to stuff down the growing discomfort of knowing that the place I am in is not where I am meant to be or needed.

When I first left work to focus on school, I had hoped to find a part-time job that would fit into my new schedule of full-time studies.  Not working felt at first like a vacation, but there was also a sense of growing discomfort that came with days spent solely on schoolwork.  I hadn't been unemployed for decades and although school has been a full-time job of sorts, it wasn't the same.  I leaned on LinkedIn as I continued my quest for a new job.  All the while, I continued to receive notifications from past colleagues and companies where I had worked.  At first, these updates were interesting - I still felt a bit of a pull toward my old life, and keeping up with the Joneses was fun.  As time continued to pass, however, I started to notice a different feeling when these alerts arrived.  A feeling of disconnection to what was taking place elsewhere.  A feeling of disinterest in the corporate goings-on that used to dictate my days and weeks.  And most strongly a lack of desire to continue being updated at all.  What was taking place in my old life was no longer something that I wanted to be aware of, as it no longer held any power over me.  

This realization was front and centre as I began to update my profile settings to silence all the updates the app was cascading to me.  As I continued to turn these pings off my eyes drifted down the menu choices to one item I hadn't considered...Close Account.  Could I do it?  Did I dare?  What would it mean?  Was I ready?  I exited the menu to give myself some space and time to contemplate whether or not I wanted to take that next step.  I realize that this entire debate may seem overly dramatic or foolish to waste time on.  I know that it is just an app on my phone and I can re-establish a profile at any given moment in time if I wish to do so.  The piece of the puzzle that stumped me was what deleting my profile would mean to me.  Pushing delete would erase what had been a huge part of my life for the past 27 years and it felt like at the same time I would be saying goodbye to a big part of who I have been.  Could I simply walk away from that Kerri of the past and feel okay doing so?  Would I miss her at all?  

The idea was tough to grapple with until I flipped my perspective.  I was looking at this as a negative action - deletion, removal, erasure - when it was actually a positive act of releasing an old narrative, closing the cover on a completed story, and making space for new possibilities.  Removing my profile from LinkedIn is a small way of symbolizing that the Kerri I once was is no longer the Kerri I am now, nor will it be the Kerri I become in the future.  That past version of me had a good ride; she accomplished more than she ever thought she could and chose to end her journey when she knew there was no further need to strive for empty goals.  This time as my finger hovered over the Close Profile option I felt a release as I moved forward to complete the action; letting go of the old and welcoming in the unknown.