Recently I was approached about a (what most would consider, big) opportunity, and I said no. It was a very challenging decision for me to make, a crossroads that would determine my future career path, where we would live, and ultimately change our pace of life that we’ve established here. No immediate feeling came to me, no gut reaction, no peace about either option. This made me uncomfortable, having to sit in question without resolution.
A practice I live by is to lean into opportunity, say yes, take ownership, and trust myself to figure it out as I go. For me to turn something down feels taboo, especially when it was a path that would elevate my societal status and likely my career; but it was something I did not have passion for1 - no fire in the belly (though I was not admitting to myself that this was the case, nor was I admitting that passion was crucial to have). I sat with the question for two weeks. I read articles, I analyzed logistics on our white board, I discussed it with my inner circle of family and mentors, and I could not sleep. I couldn’t tell why I was hesitant. Was I a coward in the face of fear? Was I being lazy if I didn’t rise to the occasion? Did I have genuine interest in this pursuit? Where would this take me in the end?
This led me to an existential crisis wondering why I do anything. What am I working toward now in my career? Why do I watch mindless reality TV (ahem, Love is Blind) instead of listening to the almost 100 podcasts in my queue? Why have I still not planted a garden? Why am I inconsistent in adding to my compost – which is literally the easiest thing ever? So, you can imagine some self-worth issues arose here. And everyone in my inner circle was so encouraging and kind, which, although heartfelt, didn’t help much because I still didn’t know if it was something I wanted.
Of course my mother’s voice was the loudest (WHY NOT?), always optimistic (WHAT A GREAT OPPORTUNITY!), always saying yes (HELL YES!!), with more faith in me than anyone (OF COURSE YOU CAN). And I’m so lucky to have someone like her in my corner. But I had to remind myself that she’s not me; I would be the one putting in the work. What are my values again? Does this align? I gave someone advice recently: “As long as it’s coming from intuition rather than ego, you’ll do well, whatever you do next.” Damn. I hate it when I have to take my own advice.
The answer came when I finally quieted my ego (and stopped gas lighting myself) enough to listen to my gut. I couldn’t hear it through the noise of my raging solar plexus. My ego was screaming:
“You aren’t safe if you say no”; “you are not smart if you let a good opportunity pass you by”; “so many others would jump at this”; “brave people say yes and we value brave people because only boring, fainthearted people say no”; “this will complete a certain image that will please society.”
After grounding myself through (you guessed it!) lots of asana, pranayama, svadhyaya (self-study), and a lot of research (Enneagram 5 here), it was self-acceptance (surrender) that gave me my answer, and not-so-magically, I was able to fall asleep. At first it felt flaky and against my own practice of saying yes to turn this down, and I cried a bit, I pouted a bit, for not turning out to be this grand idea of myself I had inflated in my head. But the next day, a wave of peace washed over me and I felt good, knowing that I would spend my future leaning into the things I have aptitude for, like writing and management, and investing my efforts in the things that light me up, while maintaining a lot of flexibility with my time. I’m also enjoying this city – we are putting down roots here, and that feels good too.
Sure, I know I could make it work if I absolutely had to. Sure the fear of being uncomfortable would have been conquered. Grit will get you a long way, but sometimes it’s not enough. It wasn’t about can or can’t, it was about knowing myself and really asking what I wanted my future to look like. This was such a good exercise of the heart for me, inching closer and closer to myself, removing that good/bad dichotomy my brain is hardwired to worship. One of my favorite substack authors put it this way, in a very timely newsletter:
It’s not about the action…it’s about the amount of self behind it.
XOXO - Chan
Sometimes we have to make decisions that are outside of our locus of control, which sucks, because we don’t usually have time for reflection, and we don’t usually get to decide based on what we want. Those decisions are sacrificial and/or necessary for survival, and they fall into a completely separate category.