It's not all a box of fluffies
Today, I turned down a job that I probably shouldn’t have turned down.
And as if one curveball isn’t enough, here’s another; I am almost exactly halfway through my stint as a Milford guide. I might be living the dream but nothing lasts forever, especially when the dream is captured by a fixed term contract bearing my signature.
Having a corporate job lined up in breathtaking Queenstown to pick up where my current job leaves off sounds like a pretty good gig, right? My head certainly thought so. Remember, I come from a legal background so practically every bone in my body is a rational bone. I can justify the juice out of anything. And I almost had myself persuaded that the corporate world was ready for me again. Sorry I mean, I was ready for the corporate world again.
But then my pesky gut kept mumbling something. In fact, I usually suck at listening to my gut. My mind gets ticking, then it just gets obnoxiously loud and before I know it, the mind wins – before I even realise a battle was going on.
The one time I listened to my gut, it had pretty drastic results. Let’s just say I wouldn’t be sitting in sunny Queenstown writing this post if I hadn’t listened to my gut. So, albeit drastic, I guess it worked out ok.
The tricky thing about life is that once you’ve made a decision to go one way, it inevitably leads you towards another crossroads. And even the most carefully drawn map seems to just miss off the arrow pointing you in the ‘right’ direction.
I’ve said before that I am comfortable with not knowing ‘what’s next’. Confession time. I’m not 100% comfortable 100% of the time. Call it my fake it until you make it approach. I get asked almost every day what I am going to do in the winter season. And as I face the possibility of a ‘real job’ and the reality of the expiry date on my ‘dream job’, that question gets harder for me every time. I’ve got to the point where I dread it, despite my best efforts to think otherwise.
So it's time to remind myself that it’s ok to be an idealist. I’m allowed to believe that my ‘what’s next’ will turn up, maybe fashionably late, but definitely in style.
With that settled, I’m not going to even try dance around the question of my future plans. I’m going to admit I just don’t know instead. I’m not going to dabble in job search sites on my days off. I’m going to go on more adventures instead.
And I’m not going to regret turning down the opportunity to go straight back to the corporate world. Because I’m going with my gut instead.