Chat GPT says that “The word ‘quit’ originated from the Old
English word ‘cwitten,’ which means ‘to acquit’ or ‘to set free’. It later
evolved to mean ‘to leave’ or ‘to stop doing something’.”
I have quit two jobs in the last year…one that lasted about
8 months and this part-time one that lasted about a month. Never have I ever
quit a job after just one month. I knew the job wasn’t for me, and while I let
the last one that wasn’t for me drag on and on, I had no intention of doing
that to myself this time. One could say I quit two jobs this year. One could also
say I tried out two things that stretched me out of my comfort zone. Both
things are true. Either way it is all an adventure of this lifetime.
The news of me quitting was met with empathy and compassion from
one boss, and with hostility and aggression from another. As I sat on the screen
watching this person be forcefully angry with me over what this decision means for them,
I stood in my confidence and while my voice was shaking I spoke my truth and said
“I am confident in my decision and know this is the right thing for me.” And I resisted
my feeling of needing to apologize.
While I did quit, I feel as though I am set free. I have
learned what I needed to learn from this experience and am ready to move on.
Last week, as a part of my other part-time job, I visited a
woman in the hospital who is dying. There is no question that she will die
soon, when her frail body weakened by illness decides that it is time. As I sat with her and
held her delicate hand, I stared at her fingers. We spoke about her
life and what a wonderful life she has led. She didn’t want her family to come
in town and see her “like this” and I encouraged her to let her people love on
her. What a gift it is to have people come toward you when you feel most
vulnerable.
It was after that visit that I realized that this is what I
am meant to do. Sitting with a person who is dying is one of the most beautiful
parts of being a human. As the body fails, there is nothing to hide behind. With
hearts open and vulnerable, there is nothing to do but face what is happening.
Many people are afraid. And if I can sit calm and unafraid, I can look at her
and say “it’s going to be okay” and she believes me. What a gift. This is
why I am here.
I visited her again this week and as the family and other professionals
talked about details and plans and what needs to happen next, I looked at her
hands. So frail and weak and full of memories of holding children and
grandchildren and husbands and hot pans and making sandwiches and working as a
secretary and pulling weeds and drinking coffee or tea. In a room full of
talking, I see her hands.
I quit a job this week, among other reasons than because it
felt too hard. I had a deep and profound conversation with a woman who is
dying. That was hard, too.
I took a chance, and what I found is the right kind of hard.
~AZ
