“Can we speak for a few minutes?”
She immediately walked off towards the nearest conference room after getting the nod. She followed, not quite sure what this was about.
“I need your advice” she said, sitting down. I don’t have long here again and there’s some pressure to apply for another position within the company that I don’t care for.”
“Do you want to?”
“No, not really.”
“I don’t want to work in that role. It’s just not something I’ve ever aspired to.” She was adamant in her response.
“That may mean that you’ll be home for a bit then...and you’re okay with that?”
“I think I am.”
“But would you regret not applying for it? Now? Five, ten, twenty years down the road looking back at this moment?”
“Well, what do you wanna do, like, long-term?
“I want to serve God.”
Her mind was already made up and she just needed to hear someone else agree with the decision. It wasn’t hard to.
“You can’t do what’s right for the world if you’re not doing what’s right for you.” She nodded and that was the end of the talk.
She would replay that conversation several times afterward. There’s something admirable in someone knowing her life’s purpose and she never got how people could be so definite about their’s. This child was in her early twenties, and knew exactly what she wanted. By contrast, she was double that and still clueless for the most part. And she reflected on her own situation for the umpteenth time and decided that she knew what she didn’t want, and maybe she could start with that. She didn’t want to be stagnant, closed in, or dictated by the whims of lesser minds. Routines would have to add value. And inefficiencies - oh how she hated to expend time and effort on tasks that should be painless for even the junior staff. But she had tried several times before and failed to enact meaningful change. Maybe she needed to attempt a different change of sorts.
It took a few hours for the minor updates and soon after, all was ready. She paused for a bit, mulling it over one last time. “Do what’s right for you” - her mind was echoing her own words back at her. And finally she’s on the last page, the one that displays that single sentence asking for final confirmation. She paused, but only for a second - it should be harder to click the button she thought. Maybe that’s the sign she was waiting for, the first step from what was to towards all that could be. She confirmed. And it was about time that she did.