February 6, 2023

Dear Leland,

As I left work for the final time on Friday, I had an unusual experience. When you read this, you will remember where I worked, and roughly when I quit. You might not know or remember that I worked there for almost 13 years, and that as a result I left with lots of memories (both good and bad), friendships, and devotion to the company.

After I turned in my badge and laptop, I turned and walked away from the building toward the parking lot. I started breathing heavily, involuntarily. Huge, heaving breaths. I couldn’t tell if I was going to vomit, cry, or hyperventilate. I really didn’t know what was going on, but decided to let my body do what it needed without trying to resist. Then I sensed (and this is going to sound a little crazy) a pull from the building. It felt as if some energy inside me was being pulled magnetically by the building itself. I sensed my body and the building agreeing that the energy belonged to the company, not to me. It was a cloudy, breezy day, and I sensed the wind blowing energy particles out of my back, to blow back to the building where it belonged.

I decided to engage with the idea; as I approached the parking garage I imagined putting a screen across the threshold. As I walked through the imaginary screen, I felt the last remaining energy particles filtered out of me, dropping to the ground after I walked through (I was now apparently too far away from the building for the magnetic pull to draw the energy particles back via the air).

Sitting down in the car, I felt relief, calm, and peace. The emotion was distinct from how I have felt over the last few weeks and months. You may or may not recall that we planned for this for a long time. I asked you and your brother how you would feel about me quitting my job months ago. Your response: “It’s fine, I guess? Will you spend more time playing with us?” Thank you for reinforcing what really matters.

Anyway, the last few months have been challenging for me. I’ve processed a lot of sadness (at saying goodbye to folks at work, saying goodbye to the company I’ve loved working for, and saying goodbye to the working lifestyle). I’ve also processed a lot of fear. At first the fear was centered around the loss of income, and my financial insecurities. More recently the fear has centered around taking control of my life. This may sound counter-intuitive, but I’m realizing that work has been an excuse for me not to take ownership of my life. Quitting my job is just one stepping stone toward taking that ownership, but it’s a big one. My job occupies 40+ hours of time each week, and it’s mentally and emotionally intensive enough that I often think about work when I’m at home. Though I have enough hours in my day to do the things I say I want to do (exercise, see my friends, write), I usually find myself too mentally and emotionally drained at the end of the workday. So, I’m prioritizing me, and the things that matter most to me (instead of the things asking for the most attention).

Quitting a job probably shouldn’t be as emotionally draining as this was, but the truth is that I had to stare down some demons to get here. The thing that kept me resolute in the waves of fears and sadness was a profound sense that I was being called to do something different. As of this writing, I have no idea what the different thing will be. All I have is a sense that I needed to clear some space to prepare myself for the call.

We have much to discuss in this space, like “why is your dad writing you letters you are too young to read?”, “why is he publishing it online?”, and “why are these the details he is choosing to share with me?”. Hopefully you get some of the answers you want in due time.

I love you,

Dad