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“You know you have to quit,” I think to myself.
I am sitting at my desk. I have just read an email between two of my superiors. They have obviously forgotten I have access to their inboxes.
I work at a high-profile magazine and this job is crushing my soul. I feel imprisoned and smaller than the tiniest grain of sand. I’ve been wanting to quit for months, but the security of a steady paycheck keeps me stuck.
In the email, these two people decreed that I was being “impertinent” because I would not perform a task for them that I was not allowed to do, per company policy. I explained repeatedly in person and in emails why I could not do what they were asking for, but they brushed me off.
To make matters worse, they also mock and make fun of me in the email. These are grown-ups and professionals. I feel sick.
I am furious. My head feels like a ball of fire. My stomach is in knots. White-hot anger froths forth from my pelvic bowl. F*ck them!
Not only am I being reprimanded for something I can’t help, but I am also ignored or not acknowledged for all the times I have saved these two people’s asses. I take my role seriously and always put forth great work. They have no respect for me or what I do.
I decide in that moment I am done.
I click off my email and head to HR.
When I look back on this decision, one thing sticks out—how the moment I made it felt in my body.
There was a deep calmness, a sense of relief, and an immediate reduction of tension. There was a subtle, bubbling energy that rose from the earth and landed smack dab in my tummy. There was a pull saying, “Go this way.” There was a deep peace, even though my body was reactive. There was the yummy “yes” that cleared my vision and changed my perspective. There was freedom.
We have all felt that inherent niggle, that pull, that deep sense of knowing that accompanies listening to what our body is communicating—without arguing with it.
We have all been in moments where we knew something was off, not right, or dangerous.
We have all felt that dip in our tummy or our hands becoming sweaty when something deep down says, “There is something wrong here.”
We’ve all felt that chill up the spine that makes us turn our heads and look behind us.
Because the body doesn’t lie. The body does not defer to the beliefs or whims of the ego. It only speaks the truth—even if we are terrified to hear it or accept it. The body takes energetic information and translates it through feelings, sensations, and hunches.
We always know, if we are listening.
At a workshop many years ago, the speaker said this about these moments: the consequences no longer matter because we have surrendered our hold. We have finally listened to the deep wisdom of our bodies and the grip of the ego’s beliefs, and limitations fall away.
“Please don’t do this to me,” the head of HR says. We are friendly and she depends on me here. She has always been an advocate for me.
“It’s time. I have to move on,” I say.
I feel this part of my life already slipping away from me. I release it. My body softens.
When I walked back to my office, everything had changed. I no longer cared, and I felt a deep sense of respect, honor, and love for myself.
I remember my last day. I left early. It was spring and the sky was bright and cloudless. I got in my car, left the underground parking garage, and headed toward the freeway.
Knowing I would never make this drive again made me a little sad, but my body told a different story.
In my body, I felt the sweet, delicious pull of my next adventure.