Recently, I resigned from a big project because of burnout mainly. And so I’ve taken to writing. I feel like a musician who seems to write their best lyrics to their own broken heart. Or in my case, a broken and interrupted capacity.
Broken and interrupted capacities lead to resignations.
It’s difficult to talk about without being uncomfortable. Or, egotistical.
I speak to those who believe they have accomplished a great deal in a short amount of time. This is for those who have been recognized at some point for their above and beyond. For their passion and dedication and for doing something extra-ordinary.
I am also speaking to those who have lost their flame. Who have been working diligently and proudly, only to be asked for more. To go further. To keep up this neck-breaking pace.
It’s not a request. It’s expected.
This is for those who continue on, hoping for permission to take a break. Waiting for the recognition in order to take a step back and enjoy their creations.
For those who are tired and have sacrificed personal time with loved ones. Who work because they love what they do, not just in love with what they do. They know they are making a different in people’s lives. Because that is why they do it.
It’s hard to talk about because most people won’t understand. This resignation letter is not only for people resigning from work that once lit them up. It’s also for the people who seek affirmation and support from others.
Resignation doesn’t mean complete absolvement from your commitments and passions. It means discernment and being in control.
Don’t wait for it. Stop seeking it. Find a way to resign in honour of your capacity. It’s your gift. Sharing your gift takes preservation and pacing.
I believe we have a finite amount of capacity. Preserve it. Invest it. Make it last.
Savour it.
Proudly,
The newly resigned me.
