No Room at the Space Station

My cat just came up to join me as I was deciding to write about a decision I recently made to stop working for a company where I hope to one day work in a more significant capacity, but which for the moment was providing me with more challenges, stress and difficulties than benefits.

The cat is chewing on my sunglasses, which I will now place in my desk. (The cat or the sunglasses? You decide.)

Sometimes l don’t know what decision is the right one to make for my future. So much of what I read in terms of motivational literature has to do with choosing your own path, and being in control of your own life’s successes and failures; not being the victim of circumstance.

But in an industry full of gatekeepers, it’s sometimes difficult to truly believe you’re the captain of your own ship. It’s like, sometimes I just want to dock my ship at a cool space station, but space-parking is full, and maybe I’m too space-early, or space-late to ever be allowed in.

Everything will happen for my highest good. That’s one of the affirmations I try to remember when I get to feeling this way.

It’s just that sometimes I just wish my highest good was at that damn space station.

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