The work day hasn't yet begun but I've hit the week by storm. I'm feeling unusually refreshed and dare I say hopeful for a Monday morning. I'm remaking my bed with clean sheets and texting a close friend about their desire to leave their job. They explain the physical, mental, and emotional toll their current employer has placed on them.
We go back and forth for a bit about how it can be hard, in those circumstances, to look for something new... how it can be hard in any circumstances to find a job that values not just your time and energy but your humanity. They have their plan for putting in their two week notice, with or without a job offer in hand.
While conventional wisdom might frown upon this, I know my friend is making a responsible choice for themselves and their future. This isn’t a rash decision. It’s a well-planned move and I’m immensely proud of them. As we continue in conversation, I'm reminded of something another friend once told me: you can't pick up something new if your hands are full.
Boy is it tempting to clutch on to things that aren’t serving us simply because we don’t want to be empty-handed.
I’m matching socks together now and rolling my eyes at the pink running socks with more holes along the sole than fabric. I pair them up anyway. My mind tells me it’s best to have these in the event of running out of clean socks to wear. Something is better than nothing. But as I turn to stuff them into my sufficiently packed dresser drawer, I realize there’s no room in the sock drawer for new socks if I keep holding onto barely-passing-for-socks socks.
I thought about how the day prior I had told my partner I was going to buy some new running socks. Looking at the drawer in that moment, I realized I wouldn’t have space for them if I continued to hold onto the “less-than-ideals.”
Are you currently holding space (physical or mental) for something that serves no real purpose? In a New York City apartment, dresser space is sacred. There’s no need for hole-ridden socks. I can tangibly see this. But what about in my mind? In my heart. What am I letting live there rent free? What if I did a little spring cleaning in the deep crevices of my soul?
Would there be more space for laughter? More space for joy? More space for adventure or silliness or play along? Would I find more opportunities to dance? To write? To dream? Would there be time for love? For beauty? For life?
It’s hard to open new doors when our hands are full. This week, we invite you to put something down. And be open to whatever you might choose to pick up next.
Love always,
Liz