Back in the file cabinet again yesterday still culling the papers that have piled up, Basil called downstairs: “Did you know that it was five years ago today that you were laid off from The Advocate?”
Quite a milestone, and not only for the reasons you might expect.
That simple act launched countless other leaps of faith, although I didn’t know it would at the time.
Don’t get me wrong; being a journalist was the best job I will ever have. I loved every minute and still miss it.
But being cut loose that day with 80 others was the kick in the pants the rest of my life desperately needed.
I was forced to reinvent myself, a step at a time.
These days, I challenge myself every day: at a job that stretches my skills and imagination, as a fitness instructor and with several other avocations; in relationships — old and new; and in lots of other ways.
I wouldn’t have jumped in to all these experiences if I hadn’t stepped out of the newsroom and into the warm spring sunshine clutching my separation papers.
And I hope it doesn’t show, but five years later, most of it still scares the crap out of me. I fail as often as I succeed at the things I try, and I am still finding my way.
But if I had a regret, it would be that I didn’t start living out loud sooner.
Now, Catherine is poised to begin her own life’s journey.
I sure hope she has been paying attention.