Living on the Edge

by  Laura Capp

Things began to crumble for me about two years before I actually left the organization I’d joined nine years earlier. The seeds of discontent were sprouting, but I didn’t want to see them. In those days I was exhausted from carrying my self-appointed load at the office and from barely managing my overwhelming responsibilities at home. I wasn’t happy anywhere; my soul was starving. It took a year before I was willing to accept that I needed to move on, but I had no idea what I should do or what I wanted. So I continued to run in place, praying for answers and hoping to be inspired with a vision of what my next move should be.

Unhealthy Practice

When I think back to the years I worked for a corporation, I wonder how I managed it all. During one company meeting I sheepishly confessed that, by the end of a long workday, I felt so depleted that I went home every night to “veg” out on the sofa. It drew nervous laughter from my compatriots. Like so many working in corporations, we all lacked balance in our lives, and all felt guilty for admitting it. I knew a number of folks, younger than I, who had worked for the company since the day they graduated from college. Their coworkers were their only acquaintances. I wasn’t much better; as I’d progressed up the organization chart my personal time shrank to nothing. Not only was I working too hard, but I was unconsciously teaching my employees that, to get ahead in the company, they should also work too hard. I realize now how I contributed to the perpetuation of this unhealthy practice.

All of this came home to roost on a marvelous Florida spring day when the fuchsia oleander were bursting and the humid air hung motionless. I’d finished an early morning meeting with a staff member and headed back to my office to tackle paperwork. My office was bordered on two sides by windows from floor to ceiling. On bad days I sometimes had the sense of falling over the edge, so I placed my desk away from the windows with my back to the interior wall. Out of the blue, I began to feel a tightening in my rib cage that traveled up my neck to my jaw. I sipped some coffee and tried to get hold of myself, but I was shaky on my feet. I tried to identify the pain in my chest, but it was like nothing I’d felt before.

The colleague I’d been meeting with returned to my office to ask a question and, from the startled expression on her face, I knew I must look as badly as I felt. By this time, I was coming to believe I was having a heart attack. When she offered to drive me to the hospital, I did not resist. After several hours of tests in the emergency room, I was sent home with a prescription for antacids and a lecture on stress. Thankfully, it wasn’t a heart attack, but it was all the warning I needed. My growing dissatisfaction with my demanding career had reached the breaking point. Within two months I resigned, and the only thing I was working on was a tan.

Time to Go

Certain times in your life you can just feel the hand of the Lord at work. Those weeks before I made the decision to leave my job were that kind of time for me. In addition to my health scare, a series of events occurred that seemed to point in only one direction—the exit. The Lord couldn’t have been clearer if He’d shouted, “Get out!” I had prayed for guidance, but I had not expected the answer to come in the form it did. Yet, all the signs were telling me it was time to grasp the next phase of my life, whatever it might bring.

Excerpted with permission from Soul Business © 2003, Paul Bruno and Laura Capp

Laura Capp is an instructional designer, consultant, writer and mother of one daughter living in Central Florida.