I was born busy. According to my mom, from the very beginning, I was in constant, deliberate motion—bustling around the house completing self-assigned projects while strategizing the next. This tracks.

“Doing” has dominated my life. There was a bit of time there in my early 20s in Nashville when I let up a little. But as an adult, I have spent an average of 60 to 70 hours per week being extremely productive. This tracked through to all Major Life Changes. From law school in 2002 until now, I tackled every job change, family change, relocation, or other significant event by project-managing the shit out of it.

The only exception is sobriety. I don’t know how, but in early 2019 when I made the decision to stop drinking, somehow I knew I could not project-manage my way through it. I had to feel my way through it. And by some miracle, I did. Still am.

In fact, it’s by that miracle—sobriety—I find myself on the other side of a decision that was unthinkable only a year ago: to relinquish my law practice in order to do something I truly love. But there are some nuances. It makes a lot of sense to cold-turkey-quit an addiction that is killing you. It does not, however, make a lot of sense to cold-turkey-quit a career that’s going really well. But that’s what I did. And I got here mostly because, even amidst all the doing, I’ve been feeling my way closer to myself.

In fact, I know without any doubt that my decision to quit law is bringing me closer than I’ve ever been to who I am at the core. However, the morning after I announced it, I woke to the familiar buzzy anxiety and my default impulse to resolve it by doing.

So here we are: one week post BigAnnouncement and now hundreds of meetings, calls, lists, strategy sessions, and content plans into the launch of my next . . . big . . . . . .  

It makes a lot of sense to cold-turkey-quit an addiction that is killing you by degrees. It does not, however, make a lot of sense to cold-turkey-quit a career that’s going really well.

But that’s what I did.

This morning, I settled into my coffee-drinking chair, took a couple deep breaths, and started drafting my to-do list for today. I was in good spirits. I was going to GET ISH DONE!

As I typed, the words “create landing page for launch” appeared before me on my phone, and I started to feel weird. “What the hell???” Then the feeling of weird turned into the feeling of revolt.

“What am I doing?” I said. “Is this really what I want?”

Suddenly, the prospect of moving forward with a launch of anything felt like pouring myself a glass of wine. Like a betrayal of self.

Because it is.

And I am doing it again. Ignoring my intuition in order to feed my addiction to producing something meaningful, something worthy, something important, something, something, something, something. And I need to stop.

My days of relentless productivity in pursuit of anything other than my deepest, truest longings are over.

My days of relentless productivity in pursuit of anything other than my deepest, truest longings are over.

My days of relentless productivity in pursuit of anything other than my deepest, truest longings are over.

I am not a producer. I am an artist. I am not a content creator. I am a writer. I am not a machine. I am magic. I am not a human doing. I am a human being.

There will be no launch, no community, no class, no nothing until I am ready.

And I’m not ready. I have more dreaming to do. More feeling. More being.

So, for now, I am pausing everything.