30 days, 30 nights....

So. I gave my 30 day notice at my job today. That would be the 30 day notice of my resignation, that is. And yes, we have planned this for a while - in fact, it was a large part of the inspiration for the post where I whined incessantly about our money issues. Because the smartest thing to do when you are worried about a large financial cost looming in your very near future is to, of course, quit your job. Yep.

Ahem. Yep. I did it. It's done. So done. Wow.

I am still reeling a bit, so I am having a hard time writing about it.

I know it is good. It is good. It will be good.

But it is also completely crazy. Completely, utterly, "72 hour hold" crazy.

And hopeful. Let's not forget it is hopeful. I am hopeful.

I am going into that mode you go into when you are contemplating breaking up with a boyfriend who you know you have no future with, but dammit if he didn't just bring you some flowers tonight? So, they were picked from your own front yard....well, it's the thought that counts, right? That mode where you are trying to hold onto those last three things you really adore about him and will honestly miss...and afraid that even though it is clearly not going to work between the two of you...What if you never find anyone else, ever again? - And what if you die a horrible lonely death from falling in the shower because you were tripped by one of your 58 cats? And what if no one is there to help you? And what if you haven't shaved in weeks??...and, and??
You get the idea.

So yeah, I am already mourning a little what I will miss about my job. The top three things I will miss are: the kids, the kids, and the kids.... These kids I get to work with? They are so inspiring. They rock. Really. Often I just sit there and listen to them or watch them, and I think how they really have so much going for them, how so many are just so incredibly insightful, and honest, and real. They are true survivors, in every sense of the word. What always amazes me is that spark of innocence and hope and the will to thrive that is still burning in them, even after they have been through incredible traumas and tragedies. It gives me faith in humanity, in our ability to heal and transform, in our deep goodness and light, in our desire to be whole.

But, at the same time, I am moving on for me. (and I can't begin to explain how selfish I feel just writing that) I am moving on for my family. I am moving on as an act of faith. Faith that there is something more for me. Faith that I will have nothing left to give these children or any others if I stay here much longer. Faith that I will have many many opportunities to give again, and to give even more. Faith that if I follow my heart and I dream big the entire universe will come alongside me to help me.

What I do know is this: Yesterday I was driving, and as the mountains rose in all of their spectacular glory before me, I realized I was smiling. I was smiling with my whole heart. I recognized this feeling I had not felt in quite a long while, the feeling that there is some golden string extending from my heart, going forward into the space before me - I cannot see where it ends but I know it is pulling me towards something good.

For the first time in a long time,

I was not only aware of the thread,

but I felt free,

completely free,

to follow it.