“Honey, we’re looking forward now”
“That’s not the way things seem”
“When have things ever been the way that they seem?”
True words. But in my heart I’m no longer quite so sure I’ve made the best decision of my life. Now, it’s merely a good decision – a same decision – some of the gleam has been rubbed off.
It’s been almost two weeks since I started to resign, and I’ve got two weeks left of my notice to work through. I think the hardest part has been saying no to my boss: no to the new title, pay rise, changed conditions and seemingly endless opportunities. I’m always a sucker for learning and a good challenge – clearly my boss knows this – and so he has tried on numerous occasions now to change my mind by dangling the carrot of further education, more development time and, basically, whatever I want, in front of my nose.
To be honest, it makes me feel pretty darn good. I finally feel like I was valued, but typically a little too late. It also makes me feel incredibly guilty and obligated – not only to explain myself but also to the company that has shown the utmost patience and flexibility over the past 18 months. I feel as though I should stay, partly because I’m a glutton for punishment and partly because if things did go to plan I would have a great opportunity to build my own team and, lets face it, a pretty decent career.
But, what’s the best opportunity? How do you know when you are making the right decision? I always thought the right choice was the one that was the hardest. And now, the tougher thing seems to be to leave my current place of employment. Or is it?
Logically, humans are a pretty risk adverse group. We’ll usually weigh up the pros and cons to any situation to ensure we’re left with a tolerable outcome without taking much of a risk. If we are forced into a corner we’ll probably take the least risky option, even if it means we’re stuck with our face against the cold, hard wall for the foreseeable future. Sure there are adventurers among us – those that laugh in the face of danger and gamble their life savings on black – but I’m so far removed from this demographic that I have trouble deciding on salad dressings in case I cause offence.
I like comfortable. Safe is also a very good feeling. Often they come hand in hand, which overall, is very satisfactory. Safe, Comfortable and their good friend Reliable. After years of their faithful companionship, dare I start flirting with the terribly seductive and oddly appealing Risk?
I know in my heart that I’ve probably made the right decision… for me. And that’s where the difficulty in explaining myself lies. For anyone else it’d be sheer lunacy; in the midst of economic downturn, rising unemployment and faced with possibly one of the world’s best career moves it does seem hard to swallow that anyone would say no to such a great opportunity. But luckily I’ve spent the past couple of years figuring out who I am and I can honestly say that while I feel terribly uncomfortable it’s a feeling I need to get used to.
This, I guess, is what risk feels like. And if you take away the feeling of suicidal despair at the unknown, it’s actually pretty exhilarating.
