TLDR: While advice from others can be helpful when facing a crossroad, we know our situation best first-hand and can make decisions that others may not understand. As long as we make choices with a rational and calm mind, we can trust the process and conditions to guide us.
How many of us have pondered the possibility of leaving our current job? Is it due to excessive workload, lack of progress or recognition, a misalignment with personal value, or just the thought of exploring something new?
This thought had been running through my mind for the past year, but I was held back by another question: “Are you sure? Many would’ve wanted your position. It seems foolish to let go of something good when you don’t know what comes next.”
The inner skeptic
This discouraging thought mostly stemmed from worry or fear of what others would think – of how foolish they might perceive this action, or how foolish I would seem.
The skeptic in me remained strong until something bigger shook it. Early last year, team restructuring was announced, with a stronger emphasis on delivering more efficient results, and the resignation of all overseas team members.
At first, I took these responsibilities as a challenge — after all, I had taken on growing roles over the past years.
I also believed this was what a good leader must do: to be the pillar of support for the team, especially during tough times.
Soon enough, 14-hour workdays became the norm. Days were filled with meetings to ensure ongoing operations, maintain process continuity from departing colleagues and fill vacant positions as soon as possible.
Lunch was eaten at the desk to save minutes that could be spent working, no breaks were taken to quickly cross off hands-on tasks from to-do list. Eventually, self-care routines were abandoned and the no-work-on-weekends boundary was crossed.
How do we know when it’s enough?
This was a personally challenging period, but I gritted my teeth and pushed on. Positions were filled, trainings were conducted, and frequent meetings with the new overseas team were established.
But not without a toll on body and mind – skin breakouts, weight gain, poor sleep, heart palpitations, and lack of energy for anything else.
After a few months, I realised I needed help — this wasn’t something I could manage on my own. My boss was surprised when I broke down in our catch-up call; he thought I was handling the situation quite well! He gave me a two-week break and arranged for a colleague to stand in during that time.
Reviewing boundaries
I used the time to rest, eat better, and try out a gym trial. Establishing a healthier routine helped me regain some balance.
Then, I came to a realisation: this situation wasn’t personal and it could have happened to anyone. While I couldn’t control the outcome, I can put in my best effort and allow the result to materialise.
The anxiety stemmed from the mindset that “it’s my full responsibility to keep things going at the same high standard as on normal days”. These weren’t normal days, and while it was my responsibility as the manager to keep things going, there were still things beyond my control – and I had to know where to draw the line. And for sure, I wouldn’t be able to manage the situations if I wasn’t well.
Returning to work after the two-week break, the same pressures and demands remained. Though it was clear that the world didn’t crumble without me, I knew I couldn’t return to the same routine.
I informed my boss and team that I needed a morning gym session everyday — this was my new boundary to make things work. The shift in mindset also helped to alleviate unnecessary pressure.
As the situation slowly found balance after a year, I knew deep down that I would leave the company once things stabilised. Vacant positions were filled and systems were implemented to improve operations with the new team. The turning point came one morning, during regular work planning call with a team member. A thought struck me: this is it, it’s time to leave.
Nothing extraordinary was discussed during the call, only the routine had lost the purpose for me.
Not until another team member resigned, did I realise that there is no ‘good time’ to leave. After considering practical matters — typical monthly expenses, how much saving there is, how long I can sustain myself, how I will use the time off well, and how I can manage the emotions that may arise during the time off; and having sat on my resignation letter for a few days to ensure it wasn’t an emotional decision, I formally submitted it to my boss.
It was fortunate that the remaining team members had been groomed for independence and growth. Most areas were already running smoothly without much direct involvement from me. After serving a three-month notice period to assist with the transition, I left the company.
Living with uncertainty
Without a new job or a fixed plan in place, it felt bittersweet to leave a workplace of 12 years and the people I had worked closely with. It felt liberating, yet apprehensive of what the future might hold. With body and mind care at the forefront, I’ve learnt to hold plans lightly.
Coincidentally, several opportunities to join retreats arose. I seized them and planned for extended self-practice periods.
The past 2 months have been filled with retreats, both as a participant and as a volunteer to the organising team. Providing small assistance to others on their paths has brought me joy and gratitude.
There are still moments of doubt and uncertainty, but it also gave me time for introspection and realisation. There are also moments of annoyance when friends ask if I’ve started looking for another job or what my next step is. But I’ve learnt to simply say: I don’t know yet.
I do aspire for conditions where a suitable career aligning both spiritual and material growth arises for me. But for now, I’m taking things slow and that feels alright 🙂
Wise steps:
- Be clear about our boundaries in both personal and work life, so we can make decisions with a clear mind rather than out of emotion.
- Assess practical matters, sit with the decision if needed, and trust the choice made.
- It’s okay not to know the immediate next step and to say so when asked.
