Walking Away
Time to Go
I guess you could say I’ve developed the fine art of walking away through the years. I’ve walked away from a lot of things. When my gut tells me it’s time to go, I don’t stick around and ask a lot of questions. I do try to keep my eyes open to make sure I’m not walking for the wrong reasons, but I’ve learned the hard way that it’s simply too painful to stay where I no longer belong, longer than I am supposed to be there.
Whenever I’ve followed this gut sense, I have not been disappointed. What I am wary of, though, are the ghosts of the times that I have done so impulsively, and burned bridges on my way out the door. I need to be mindful not to do that, though the temptation is great. It would not serve the situation, the people involved, nor myself, well to do that. So, I must resist that temptation.
I made a decision last week that it’s time to go. Clearly, all the signs are there, and my gut is not just whispering, it is screaming, “Get out, by whatever means available, just go. This ship is sinking, and there is nothing you can do to stop it from doing so.” It is, and there isn’t. I need to go.
I went in yesterday, and slowly found myself second-guessing my decision. “What about this great view?” I will miss this. But, it’s like the first year the Washington Nationals were in their beautiful new ballpark, but the team was atrocious that year. By mid-season, I could no longer justify my season tickets. It got old saying, “How about that ballpark”, when the team was doing nothing and going nowhere. I had to go.
I’ve only told a couple people — granted, they were the most important people to have told, but I have let it be known that I need to go, and they are putting the wheels in motion to make that possible.
Nothing to do now but strap in, throw my hands up in the air, and get ready for one wild ride. It helps, also, to scream. Ya-a-a-a — a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a — let’s go.
