A year to find my place. 12 months that I never once searched the internet for a job. 52 Saturday nights that my stomach hasn’t been tied in knots because the weekend was almost over. 365 days of knowing that I have the power to make someone’s day by helping them.
It’s hard to believe that it has been a year since I took my first step into a hurdling run toward a new career. When I walked through the gate and down that sidewalk sandwiched between manicured grass for the last time, I drove off and literally did not look back. I was free from trying to fit a mold that was clearly not something my soul was meant to be crammed into.
I walked into CNA classes one month later and knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
I wasn’t just switching my vocation, I was finding and fulfilling my life-purpose. It was real. It was deep. And it was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I was leaving everything I had prepared my whole adult life for.
When I was high school and then college I wrestled with The Questions. “What should I do forever?” and “What is my calling?” because that’s how seventeen and eighteen-year-olds and twenty-somethings think. I made the choice that I thought would please my people. Then, I backed out and made the choice that felt like the right one at the time. Perhaps it was. I still love environmental science. Truth be told, if I had done things like I should have, I’d probably still be in that field.
It served me well for a time, and I’m not convinced that it won’t serve me still yet.
A year later and I’m in over my head (a good thing) learning about nerves, muscles and diseases and the things I can do to improve someone’s life. I love it. I devour it. I’ve started early because I’m a biology geek like that.
In one week I start classes full time. Sitting with people that have the same goals as I. A huge change from last July. That first step was crazy, scary. But I couldn’t be more convinced that I’m in deepest waters where grace abounds.
Does your next week look drastically different that your one year ago?
P.S. My son says that I’m not a geek. He doesn’t know that I’ve been reading on muscle groups in the legs for the last week. And meditating on the plasticity of synapses. He still thinks I’m cool, “kinda”.