I burst out crying during an executive meeting once.It was between myself and the regional superintendent of a nonprofit I was in.
It was a few weeks ahead of Christmas and I had been planning an event with my team. Things were not going well. I was debriefing my higher-up when the tears rolled down.
He was taken aback. A very caring man, he did his best to manage the moment kindly.
There were issues—difficulty finding a venue, lack of enthusiasm by teammates, and more. But the core issue was that I personally saw no reason for the event to hold, yet I was organizing it. I was internally conflicted, yet blindly following orders. The organization had asked me to host a Christmas event as the head of my local chapter. All the other centres were doing it. Was I to say no?
I should have. I didn’t know how to, or have the boldness. That lack of congruence between what I felt and what I was doing had bored a deep fissure, and my emotional breakdown reflected the tipping point.
Months later, I handed in my resignation based on an unrelated new development. It was tough to do because I knew how it would look. The supervisor told his higher ups that I did so because I was discouraged, citing my breakdown as evidence. I knew he would do that. He was wrong, but it didn’t matter. I was just happy to leave.
I don’t know why I never gave myself room to acknowledge my emotions during the turbulent tenure. I know why, actually. I was too religious.
Since that first tearful meeting, I’ve burst into tears another two times recounting the experience working in that organization. A grown man bursting into unprovoked tears says a lot about the extent of psychic pain that occurred. All this is within the last twelve months, not that long ago.
I am a free agent now, not beholden to that organization, or to any other. I have a type of professional claustrophobia, needing lots of room, or at least real resonance. I appreciate how important alignment is for me in my life’s work, and saying yes when I mean no is something I’m working to never have to do again.
That’s why I’m giving my best to the season at hand. Building something real, personal and aligned, something I’ll never need to take a break from, because I enjoy it, because it works. Bridging the gap between one’s passion and their livelihood is something only few people get to do in life. I am committed to it.
For you, it doesn’t have to be an enterprise. It could be your 9-5. Making sure that you’re doing work you’re proud of, passionate about, and getting well recognized for it. The journey to career fulfilment starts with recognizing your restlessness, your deep misalignment. Don’t wait till it becomes a flood of tears at dinner.
Washington DC, 2024