It’s hard to walk away from something. I don’t often write about my “real” job, what I do during the day. I literally had a job that was a perfect fit, I helped people and I got to run the show, what is not to love? But as we are looking to move on to our next adventure, I gave my notice and started to prepare for the process of handing over my job to someone else.
Turns out it’s really hard when you build something up and then you have to hand it over. It was my last day recently. I had kinda ignored it, the ticking of the countdown clock. I knew two months in advance and I shared that knowledge with my leadership because we aren’t an island unto ourselves and so often our actions impact those around us.
I had to admit to myself that I was going to have to start distancing myself from the thing I worked so hard to build, from the people that I worked so hard to help but the truth is, it was not mine to keep and I knew that I had to move on and frankly I knew that it would be in good hands.
So I ignored the final countdown except for the fact that I spent many nights working on my standard operating procedures. I needed to know that I was giving the person after me the very best information to succeed and also to make sure that my clients would be well taken care of.
The hardest thing is to take apart your office. Pulling down the notes, the pictures, the awards, the business cards of contacts ... all of it. Packing it up means that it’s real. I’m leaving something that I worked really hard to create ... something that means a lot to me. It’s not the first time and probably not the last.
Are we ever really ready to move on?
The answer is yes. We have to move on and we have to grow. Moving on means that there are clearly other things out there for us, out there for me. So in the process of preparing for the new, I have to let go of the old.
Once I sat in an interview where they viewed my resume with sceptic distrust: “Why was it that I had so many jobs over the past 10 years? Why did I relocate so often? And ehy in the world should they hire me?” It’s simple, I told them. You hire me knowing that while I might not be here long, I will make my mark and I will benefit your company. Better yet, when my time is up, I will train a better “me” to continue the work.
As a military wife and then an oil industry wife, I pack my house and move often. It’s something that is just a given about us, my family. We are nomadic and frankly, I love it. I love the adventure that awaits us at the next move, the next state, the next house and yes, the next job.
While few will understand that, many will understand that feeling of leaving behind something that is good. My coworkers became family and through them and those relationships, I grew. So while I hope that I have imprinted something on them and their life, I know they have done so on mine.
I watched as a dear friend and coworker stretched to take over that role. As the crew rallied to cover the gaps until they found a new, smooth groove. Truth is that no one is irreplaceable and that’s a good thing. Maybe they will think of me and laugh... tell stories of the good times and the bad... or maybe like so many that came before, they will forget about me. And that’s okay too.
Life is a short and fragile thing. We each have a purpose and to reach that purpose we have to be willing to move. Whether it’s moving forward or backward... lateral or to a whole new state like me... it’s movement that will sustain us.
— Kalynn Brazeal is a conservative, Christian wife/mom/country girl carrying around an MBA, several decades of business experience and a strong opinion. Now living in the remoteness of North Dakota, she continues to share her column on life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness and cake. She can be reached by email at firstname.lastname@example.org.