Something to think about.

"We are all beasts in this kingdom, we have all killed and been killed, and some new time has come to us in which we are called out to find another way to divide the world. Good and evil cannot be all there is." #BarbaraKingsolver, Small Wonder 

"If you don't like your job, quit."

I am officially a free woman.

When I first came across the Holstee Manifesto, though its entirety proved very potently truthful, the line that struck me most in my current life was “If you don’t like your job, quit.” This simple statement was both oddly commanding, and extremely encouraging for me to continue forward in my journey for meaningful work.

For several years now, my mantra had been (sadly) closer to one of the following: "If you don't love what you do, you're screwed," or "Work doesn't matter: you do it, you get paid, you leave," or "Only lucky people really like their jobs."

I don't know the entire truth of it, but now, I know what it feels like to have hope. And quitting doesn't feel simple, I know. We all worry about money, about paying our bills or our rent, about being unemployed, about survival. If someone hates their job and you suggest walking away from it, they'll most likely scoff or brush your comment aside as childish or irresponsible. Who quits their job, people have said to me. In this economy, you take what you can get.

Maybe. And I don't want to seem ungrateful. Even though I wasn't happy working there, I am able to admit I was lucky, I made some wonderful friends, I had some irreplaceable experiences (and lessons therein), and I met the love of my life two winters ago, when he wandered in, adorably clad in red plaid, to buy a cup of coffee. Clearly, there are no accidents.

A chapter in my life that at one time felt eternal is now fully closed, is fully ended, is fully behind me. For all the time I spent wondering when I would ever make it to the end of that portion of the journey, I am now having a tough time remembering the specifics, most of it seeming like a breezy three-year blur disappearing behind me as I walked away for the very last time.

Even though, in my head, I heard the words from Aretha Franklin's "Think," (you know, the "FREEDOM, FREEDOM, FREEDOM" part?), driving out of the parking lot after my last shift, (vandalized) apron and hat already in the dumpster (and all other work clothes and shoes soon to follow), the radio appropriately (and nearly eerily) serenaded me with Florence + The Machine's "Shake It Out." It's always darkest before the dawn, she says. Goddamn, don't I know it.

Though it seems to me that dawn is finally here.

The Holstee Manifesto, etc.

As most of my dear friends and family already know, I have recently begun a new chapter in my life, one of hope and promise and new-ness all around: I am the new Community Love Intern for Holstee! An NYC based company that conducts business on all levels of consciousness from ethically sourced materials to considering all angles of every opportunity to constantly asking questions to valuing life as a whole, Holstee is an intimate operation that's on the rise.

As many of you also know, my first introduction to this company came with the gift of their profoundly-worded Manifesto. With 8 million views around the world and counting, this daring and honest creed is getting attention, resonating with lives, and sparking necessary inspiration-turned-action.

While I found all areas of this plainly stated advice to be full of fundamental truth, when I first opened this beautiful poster by the Christmas tree this past year, my family all around, the words that met my heart the closest were: "IF YOU DON'T LIKE YOUR JOB, QUIT." Those who know me, again, also know oh-so-well the struggle that has been my life for the past few years. In terms of finding a sense of purpose, an idea of calling and of real contribution more than just a paycheck, I have been scouring the earth it seems for a place to which I could find real belonging, real drive, real spark. I mulled this dilemma over all day, in my sleep, to my friends, to myself. I could recite my resume line by line, I could give you lists of pros and cons, I could tell you I was not meant for a cubicle or a cash register, I devoted a blog in order to record my misery, my journey, my self-discoveries, though I could not say how I imagined the future, all blurred and hazy before me.

I only hoped that when the right fit presented itself that I, like only a handful of other times in my life (ie. my bout in Los Angeles, a huge decision to move on, meeting my Colin), would know it instantly, would feel a gravitational pull towards it, would have no doubt. And even though I hoped for it each day, for years, I surely faltered and doubted and spun aimlessly.

This blog is therefore dedicated to what I'll label as the next step. Change is here, and it's hugely exciting and it's what keeps us moving forward. As I shared with my new Holstee family yesterday, change is never as frightening as it is exhilarating. I'm learning each day, more about what this particular position requires, but also about myself, about what truly matters to me, and how incorporating that into our daily ventures is possible and important. I'll be writing up about Holstee itself, what this experience teaches me, what it makes me realize, re-realize, the people I've been lucky to meet, the ways it forces and encourages me to grow, etc.

POSITIVE CHANGE, PEOPLE. POSITIVE CHANGE.