The day that the Republicans in the United States House of Representatives imploded with the ouster of Kevin McCarthy as the Speaker–and all the resulting chaos and confusion–a friend texted and asked me if I was missing DC.
He is a creature of DC–proudly so–and was reveling in the latest dysfunction (especially as a Democrat).
I thought for a minute before I answered him, and reflected back on my 20 or so years working and living in DC. I never worked on the Hill, but I did have jobs that required me to go there for meetings, hearings, and votes. And I always got a rush of excitement on the days when I had to go (even when it meant putting on a suit on a hot and humid summer day). Those days gave me a similar feeling to the one I got as a little kid when my dad would take me to the local fire hall on election day and we’d wait in line to go into the voting booth. Both experiences made the ideas and ideals of democracy and government seem possible (and made me think our system was sturdy and functional, a belief that eroded with each passing year).
My friend’s text made me think back to tumultuous times when I was in DC, and how oddly invigorating they could feel. Debt ceiling fights, government shutdowns, lame duck sessions when the outgoing majority party rushes through bills–they created an air of urgency that made a career in policy feel very exciting and fulfilling.
But I answered my friend with No. In the four years since I left DC, I’ve come to appreciate a way of working and living that is not fully dependent on elections and their outcomes, or the whims of a broken political system.
My friend’s question also made me realize that this was the first time in four years I wasn’t feeling some amount of DC FOMO.
Because I was in DC for two decades, I naturally missed the place–and many of the people–once I left. As I wrote about before, I often succumbed to FOMO, even if I was happier living somewhere new and working in a different way.
There were also times in the past four years when I felt guilty for not being “in the fight” as much as I had been, especially at a time when the world seems like it’s breaking apart in ways big and small. Was I losing my ambition? Was the coaching and consulting work I decided to prioritize “enough”?
And, of course, the real question: Was I “enough”?
(Don’t even get me started on my growing photography practice, which is not something the DC Jeff would have been able to devote much time to, or thought was worth very much.)
But as the headline of a recent Forbes article says, your ambition isn’t decreasing when your priorities change.
I knew–even on those FOMO days–that I wanted and needed to make the changes that I had. I’d always had a creative calling for one thing. For another, I had a gut sense that I could contribute more to the movements and issues I cared about by working in a different way. For me, this new way is focused more on supporting individuals, rather than pushing policy boulders uphill in DC or doing the messy work of running organizations.
Today, I’m still working to advance my values, but I’m doing so in a way that sustains rather than drains me.
If you are contemplating a similar change, be ready for feelings of FOMO and thoughts about being enough creeping in when you least expect them. It wasn’t always easy, but I quieted these worries through meditation and journaling practices, as well as therapy, running, and getting coached.
I also sought out resources that deal with these kinds of career and life transitions–I’m not, of course, the only person experiencing this, especially not in the past few years.
Two resources I’ve drawn on are Emily Tisch Sussman’s “She Pivots” podcast, which “celebrates those who have made bold moves to pursue their own non-linear paths” and Russ Finkelstein’s writing. Russ is all about “helping outliers find their way in work and life,” and his columns in the Washington Post are both inspiring and comforting.
In other words, don’t try to do this alone, because you’ll just be making a hard thing even harder.
After I texted my friend that, no, I wasn’t missing DC as the House devolved into chaos, he responded that he was glad I escaped, but he knew he was where he wanted and needed to be.
And to me, those feelings of clarity and alignment are what really matters.
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