I’m inching ever closer to a departure date – from my job and from State College. That feels like a bold statement given that I don’t have a job, apartment, or moving company lined up. I think I know where I’m going, but even that is a little up in the air.
Last week, my father asked if I knew how much longer I’d be staying. He said he’d like it if I could stay through football season and spend time at the games with the other side of the family. At the same time, he reminded me that they’ll need the house for guests and that I said I had expected to move out by this past April. I thanked him for the reminder and assured him I’d be going soon.
I have some work meetings coming up in which I hope to nail down my last day of work. I’m becoming less and less relevant and I’m trying to shrink into the background so that my successor can step in and take charge. The transition is a little awkward and we have some legal formalities that we’re waiting on. I’m probably looking at being done in a matter of a few weeks.
I have no idea what’s on the other side of this. I have no idea what a matter of a few weeks looks like. I keep telling myself that it’s an adventure or that living with and through such ambiguity (difficulty) is good for my soul. I keep trying to psych myself up about the prospect of being on the road and untethered. The truth is, such ambiguity comes with its fair share of worry and anxiety (mostly financial and a little professional). I suppose shaking off, sitting with, or fighting through the discomfort is what’s supposed to be good for the soul. These are hard lessons in giving up control. These are uncomfortable lessons in building self-confidence – trusting that I’ll land on my feet. Regardless of what happens, I’ll have taken a major risk. Either I’ll come out the other side successfully or I’ll come slinking back a little worse for the wear but with some stories to tell. Being willing to accept either option does not come easy or naturally to me.
One of the tougher things about not having a plan is not knowing which steps to take when, in what order, or in what direction. Usually, people go where the job is. They get a job and plan their lives around that, or they have a family (young kids) which roots them in their location and determines where they’ll work. In 2016, divorced and with the kid mostly out of the house, I found myself free from those traditional constraints. I had lived my entire life in the Philadelphia area, and for the first time, I gave serious consideration to moving away. To some degree, I had lost my sense of home and identity. I was no longer defined as the dutiful husband and parent and I felt a slight tug to re-invent myself somewhere else. I felt a slight tug of rebellion against the boring, suburban, picket fence life I had been living.
I had no idea what I wanted or what I was looking for. I had assumed I’d be able to fit in anywhere and that where I lived didn’t matter much. At the time, almost all of my thinking was centered on advancing my career. In August of 2016, I interviewed for a nonprofit CEO position in Martinsburg, WV. I didn’t get the job – mostly because I didn’t have any fundraising experience. In hindsight, I’m pretty sure I would have hated living in Martinsburg. I think I had some other interviews – but eventually came to the conclusion that I could rebuild exactly where I was. I could re-discover the Philadelphia region and reinvent myself without moving – become a tourist in my own hometown. This may have been one of my earlier dalliances in practicing gratitude: find the joy and happiness that’s right in front of you. I made a commitment to myself to do just that. I started to hike more, to do day-trips to the shore, to get out to see live music, and to meet new people.
Occasionally, usually after a breakup, I would still feel this desire to flee or just do something different. I always came back to center and told myself I have everything I need right here. Then I got engaged and committed myself wholly to this other person. We agreed to stay in the area for a bit, fix the house up, and then be open to wherever life takes us. We talked about moving down south – maybe Asheville, NC, but I had always assumed we might move out to the west coast to be closer to her friends and family. We were getting quotes for wedding venues in the San Diego area and she would always talk fondly about her life in California. It was an attractive option.
When that ended (April, 2019), I felt like I had to leave. Despite being advised to sit with all of the emotions associated with grieving a lost relationship, I started looking for ways to get out. By late April or early May, I had applied for a job at the United Way in Memphis, TN. In June I put the house up for sale and had an interview for a job out in San Diego. In July, I took a road trip through North Carolina where I had interviews at United Ways in Hendersonville, Winston-Salem, Greensboro, and Charlotte. Later in July, I flew out to St. Louis where I was close enough to landing a job (again at a United Way) that I spent a day with a realtor looking at houses. In August I had interviews in Jackson, TN and Memphis.
Through all of this activity, I still didn’t know what I wanted in a place and I still assumed I’d be happy wherever I landed. I knew I wanted to be somewhere warmer and slower and I needed something new in which I could lose myself. I blanketed North Carolina and California with job applications and basically applied to any United Way job that seemed to be somewhere other than where I was. Again, in hindsight, I’m not sure I would have liked some of those places (Jackson and Hendersonville in particular.).
By September, I had landed what seemed like the dream job working for a Blues organization in Memphis, TN. The job turned out to be a nightmare. The environment was hostile. The CEO denigrated the staff, called some of them toxic, and would routinely badmouth our board of directors and the musicians we were supposed to be supporting. She talked shit about everybody. I started that job in October and by January I had written to a board member asking for guidance and saying that I didn’t think I would be successful in that environment. That board member asked me to stay and kept our conversation confidential. By February, I was let go – deemed not a good fit. By the end of March, my conversation with the board member had surfaced and the CEO announced her retirement. All of this happened at the same time as when the Pandemic hit and the job market tanked. Life felt unsettled and I spent my time taking long walks along the Mississippi River.
I was unemployed in a new city and bleeding money on my rent. Initially, I didn’t qualify for unemployment because I hadn’t lived in the state long enough. When I applied for unemployment through Pennsylvania (where I did qualify), my former employer in TN (the dream job) tried to have the claim denied. It was payback for my refusal to sign a non-disparagement agreement. Because there were no performance issues and no corrective action plans in my file, they lost their fight and I was awarded unemployment compensation. I didn’t care so much about being let go, but I hated having to fight for things like unemployment and health benefits in the middle of a pandemic. I spent a few weeks doing nothing but processing. And then, once again, I started the job search – casting a wide net mostly focused on landing a job (any job). In the span of a few months, I had applied to over 40 positions. The majority of my applications were in Tennessee where I was living and California where I thought I might want to live. The market was tight and interviews were scarce. Nobody was doing anything in person. I interviewed for jobs in Berkeley, CA, Everett, WA, Nashville, Memphis, and eventually here in central PA.
I moved here in October of 2020. The first few months (half-year) were rough. The pandemic was still a thing, my organization was going through a less-than-smooth transition, political tensions were high, and my cat died. Things had gotten so tense at work that my board chair and I were trying to decide if one or both of us should resign. She apologized for how things were playing out and offered to write a letter of recommendation for me if I decided to leave. I wanted to leave, but in doing so, I felt like I was quitting or failing. Eventually things got better, but when an anonymous community member took my personal Facebook criticism of Tr*mp’s response to the insurrection to my board in an effort to get me reprimanded or fired, I knew I wouldn’t be buying a house or settling down here.
Ever since then (Jan, 2021), I’ve gone through periods where I’d apply to jobs only to stop my search because something at my current job (usually the need to hire and train someone) meant I wouldn’t be able to leave. When I was job searching, I was still taking a scattershot approach. I had good interviews with organizations in Seattle, Austin, Savannah, San Francisco, San Diego, Santa Barbara, and Oakland. If the theme/criticism from my earliest job searches when I was still in Bucks County was that I didn’t have enough fundraising experience, the broader theme in my national searches was that they’ve decided to go with a local candidate. I can think of at least eight or nine times where the primary feedback after a series of interviews was that I was competitive but they were going with someone local. For the job in Seattle, I had even booked a flight only to have to cancel when they switched the interview to zoom – which was my signal that they were staying local. They did.
It’s taken me a few years and a handful of rejections to rethink this process and flip the script on my approach. I’ve been prioritizing the job aspect of my next step thinking that I’ll meet new people and adjust to wherever I land. I’ve been thinking that keeping the search national gives me as many options as possible. What I don’t know is how many interviews I’m missing out on because I’m not local. Additionally, my priorities have shifted over these past few years. In those earlier job searches, I wasn’t interested in meeting anyone (romantically), and I wasn’t thinking about what type of community I’d like to live in. I was mostly interested in landing a job, maybe living in a city, being somewhere warmer, and having access to live music and culture. Now, I am more interested in connecting with someone romantically, and being around more like-minded people (politically, artistically, and authentically). I figure the job will work itself out.
To a certain degree, I’ve come to the conclusion that, sometimes, life requires committing to a course of action when none of the data points suggest one direction to be any more favorable than another. For me, this has been a little like a logic puzzle in which I try to make a series of statements that might help in the decision-making process – a list of values that might help me zero in on the why, when, where, and what I should be doing. It goes something like this:
- Despite having some very redeeming qualities (proximity to family and friends and a cadre of new friends whose company I genuinely enjoy) I want to move.
- With the exception of one year in Tennessee, I’ve lived my entire life on the east coast. It’s ok, but a little too “driven,” cold, and busy for my taste – or so I think.
- Despite all of my efforts to convince myself that I’m fine alone (and for the most part I am), I’d like a partner for this crazy ride we call life. I believe (and there are studies to show this) that we are better off, mentally and physically, when we are in healthy and committed relationships with others. Life’s slings and arrows sting a little less, travel can become more enjoyable, and sense of community is both buffered and enhanced by deep and close relationships. Quite honestly, central PA would be a lot more bearable with a partner – most places would be.
- I can meet someone just about anywhere, but my chances of meeting a like-minded spirit seem better in more densely populated areas where values and preferences align (liberal cities, liberal states).
- Setting aside the meeting someone aspect, I’d like to be closer to water, somewhere warmer, relatively close to mountains, somewhere sunnier, somewhere that has a diverse population, somewhere walkable, and somewhere that has lots of cultural opportunities (museums, concerts, local music, street art, etc.)
- For reasons I can’t quite explain, I want to challenge myself. For most of my life, I’ve done the easier or more comfortable thing. I went to college at the university where I had been attending football games ever since I could walk. I’ve lived in the same area most of my life (see point 2). Even now, I’m back living in the town where I went to school. I recognize novelty is a false high, but too much familiarity can lead to complacency.
- I’m not wealthy enough to retire. In fact, I’m probably heading in the other direction. I’d like to live somewhere with good job prospects. When things didn’t work in Memphis, I became acutely aware of how few other opportunities there were. Assuming I want to stay in the nonprofit sector (I do), the best cities for nonprofit jobs seem to be DC, New York, Boston, Chicago, LA, Bay Area, and Seattle. There are reasonable job prospects in some of the cities down south, but I have no interest in moving to Florida and a declining interest in Texas (see point 4 above).
- I’m trying to take into consideration where I might find inspiration for my writing. I love nature, but at this point in my journey, I don’t see myself as a chronicler of natural things. Having access to diverse people, situations, landscapes, and experiences feels important – though I’m not sure it will be later on.
- For better or worse, I’ve become a much more spiritual person over the past few years. I think I’ve become more laid back and more willing to go with the flow. I’ve mentioned several times that I’ve been looking for a slower pace – and I think the spiritual aspect plays into that desire. For this reason, most of the northeast corridor is out, and the traffic-laden nightmare that is Los Angeles is probably out.
For the better part of seven years, I’ve been trying to redefine or rediscover my sense of home (though as Ram Dass suggests, “we’re all just walking each other home”). I’ve found slivers of it in several places (family, relationships, friendships, writing, work, and music). At different times, I’ve focused on turning inward and turning outward, moving here and working there… but I’ve struggled to find the right balance. I’m not naive enough to think that geography is the solution, but then again, I’m not really looking for solutions. I’m not sure there is a problem to be solved. Almost all of the things I’ve listed above relate to putting myself in a position for opportunity. Opportunity for jobs, people, and inspiration, as well as emotional, intellectual, and spiritual growth. Over the years, I’ve become increasingly convinced that building a life around work (get a job and then discover relationships, growth, and community) is an ass-backwards approach to life… or more accurately it’s the wrong approach for me. I’ve done pretty well at almost every job I’ve had. I’m sure I’ll do well at the next one, and if it doesn’t work, there’s always the one after that. The truth of the matter is, jobs are often the most fickle and transactional of all of our relationships. Building one’s personal life around something that provides so few guarantees and lives by the mantra of “it’s not personal, it’s business” seems misguided if not ludicrous.
I’m inching ever closer to a departure date. Because the other approach hasn’t worked out all that well, I’m trying something different. For practical purposes, this means picking a spot and sticking with it. This means becoming a local candidate and seeing if my odds improve. This means reducing my options, but nailing down one piece of the puzzle and giving it a go. There’s still some ambiguity. In some respects, I’m still trying to figure out which way is north and there’s always a chance that life changes course on me. All I know is that I’m inching ever closer to a departure date. I’m wildly unprepared for that – which is stressful and exciting at the same time.