“It’s time for me to go”,
I heard myself say to my boss. With these six
words I just quit my job in a Fortune 50 company
with a compensation package that only 1% of
working women earn annually. I provided the sole
income for our family, with my husband staying
home to watch our two preschool children. It was
not, however, all that dramatic of a decision.
Leaving Corporate America was a natural ending.
I knew it was time to begin something new that
had been rattling around in my brain for some
time.
One of the first things I
noticed about this adventure was that freedom
was a double-edged sword. I had the time now to
do things I couldn’t do before, such as bring
the children to the beach, visit friends or a
museum, or yes, even clean out closets. This
wide-open time vista, though, also illuminated
the need for a framework in which to create my
work. Otherwise my house would be neat, my
family would have the pleasure of my company,
but I wouldn’t be any closer to bringing a
seedling idea to fruition. While as an employee,
I used to think that if I wasn’t confined by the
given structure of the working environment, I
would be so much more creative. Now I was
finding I needed a structure to facilitate the
creativity. The structure imposed, however,
would be of my own choice.
I choose to hire a
lifestyle coach. It was fortuitous that I came
across her brochure one day, and as I read
through her coaching style, I thought it was a
perfect match for my needs. Her specialty was
coordinating work as an integral part of how you
are, not a separate piece only to be lived
between 9-5. Just what I was looking for.
During one of my coaching
sessions she showed me her labyrinth. I had
never been through one before, although a friend
of mine had spoken of a powerful experience she
had while walking through the Grace Cathedral
Labyrinth developed by Dr. Lauren Artress,
author of Walking a Sacred Path. I was curious
about what was to unfold.
Brigid, my coach, entered
first. She explained before entering that I
should stand at the gateway, center myself, and
ask a question. The labyrinth, she went on to
explain, was a walking meditation, that each
step was to be taken with awareness and
presence. As each step unfolded, and thoughts
arose, leave them as the next step is taken. In
this way, each moment is new, and you are able
to notice what comes into your awareness, and
perhaps when you reach the center, an insight
would be gained pertaining to the question at
hand.
It was a small labyrinth,
made in a garden. At first I didn’t even see the
labyrinth itself. I looked into the distance,
since I thought it would be made of tall
material, so that you can only see right where
you are. This, however, looked like any regular
garden with two noticeable exceptions. It had an
arch made of two branches at the entrance, and
when you stood there, you could see a narrow
path wandering around in concentric circles
through the flowerbed. Planted here were flowers
and herbs, many which were in bloom.
After Brigid entered, I
came up to the entrance, closed my eyes, and
took a deep breath. What question should I ask?
All that came to mind seemed rather limited, so
I just decided to say, “Show me what I need to
see”. I entered the labyrinth. Each step
noticing, seeing, breathing, then letting it go
while I took the next step. About halfway
through, Brigid and I brushed shoulders. At the
time, I was looking down as my foot made contact
with the earth. A powerful emotion coursed
through me. As my heel, then arch, then toes
touched the path before me, I realized that this
footprint was completely unique. Never before
seen, never again to be experienced as it is,
even by me. It was wholly, completely it’s own,
created by the relationship my foot had with the
ground. Others can walk next to me, even on me,
but none can walk within me. For my life, my
experience of this moment, comes from within. It
is an outward expression of the inner. For me it
is sacred, never to be again as it is now. In it
is a responsibility to share the experience in a
way that can help others.
I once watched a
documentary about the life of Buckminster Fuller
called Thinking Out Loud. In his mid-twenties he
went through an incredibly difficult period. His
only daughter had died very young, when she was
still a toddler and he was drinking heavily to
try and deal with the pain. As the story was
told, he was contemplating suicide near a lake
one evening. As he looked out over the water, he
realized he could not kill himself. He had
collected certain knowledge that was wholly his
own, his footprint in this world, if you will.
As such, he could not kill himself, as it was
his obligation to share it with others.
Walking in the labyrinth
this day, I understood it in my heart. My
leaving Corporate America was so that I could
more fully contribute my footprint to others
struggling in this environment. Leaving the
company, no longer an employee, was not an exit,
not a giving up or resignation of the business
world. Rather it was a redefinition of how I am
able to give of myself to this environment in a
new way. Our footprints go where we take
ourselves.
It was also apparent to me
that this footprint of mine could not be made by
another; it was a sheer impossibility. This
sounds so obvious, but so many times in life I
find myself, and the business environment in
which I am accustomed to, being in competition
with others or another business entity. I worry
that someone will have already taken what I
propose to do, that my ideas are not original
enough. In business, we spend untold hours and
dollars planning our “competitive” edge, making
sure that our customers see our organizational
footprint as unique and different.
As I brushed shoulders
with Brigid, I realized that we could never be
in competition, for my path, my experience, this
moment, could never be copied, never be
duplicated. It was as original as a snowflake.
In business, if we can see our work as a
collective footprint, we can see that what we
bring to the world, what we are as an
organization is completely unique. Know this,
competition becomes someone sharing the same
space, but not the same perspective. There is no
need to fear or envy others.
Reaching the center of the
labyrinth, I take a deep breath and give thanks
to that which was shown to me. Walking back out
with the same open awareness, I am able to see
the flowers that have grown over the path and
the sticks I need to step over to continue on my
way. They are not obstacles to stop me, they are
just part of the scenery along a path that is
clearly delineated. A path upon which I leave my
own footprint.
Megan McDonough
speaks widely on self-knowledge, and the role it
plays in seeing possibilities in difficult work
situations. As a certified Yoga instructor
having over 15 years experience in the business
world, Megan shares her unique perspective in a
thought-provoking and original seminar called
“Working With E.A.S.E.”. Megan can be reached at
413-477-0932 or
mcdonomr@gis.net
