You can begin to judge just how foolish a decision you’ve made by the amount of people commenting on your “bravery” afterwards.

Apparently, after deciding to resign from my job last week I’ve reached the heroic level of Hercules himself on the brave scale. Which is kind of funny when I think about it because I still find myself feeling like the Lion from The Wizard of Oz before the Great Oz worked his magic.

Why have I been deemed brave? Because as of now I’m running full speed down the yellow brick road without a real destination or direction. That’s right ladies and gentleman, I’m the guy that quit his job without any real plan lined up afterwards.

Sure, I saw to it that I had a few lines in the water and a safety net packed away below deck before jumping overboard. But for the most part I’ve decided to go on this voyage seeking employment back in Philadelphia without a map or compass. As of this Friday, my last anchor will be raised and I’ll be leaving the safety offered in the port of Harrisburg for the unpredictable open waters waiting in the Sea of Unemployment. Okay, okay. Enough with the sailing analogies.

What my job offered me was fantastic. The year I’ve spent writing there has given me opportunities and experiences junior copywriters could only ever dream of. I was a full part of the team, and I made sure that I was a working part of it too. My work was only as good as my passion, and I made sure that both were of the highest level over the 12 months that I called the office my office.

But, and there’s always a but, four hours a day devoted to commuting alone has a way of sticking a pin in the butt of that passion bubble. I became exhausted. And that exhaustion started to lead to not just how I felt in the work place, but also how I felt in real life. And when that started to happen, I had to start evaluating how much longer I could really jump on that train every day. Yes, the people of Amtrak were amusing, but the people of Philadelphia were the ones that my heart was set on.

So I made a choice. And I set a target back on Philly. Without a plan and without a paddle. I figured that the worst thing that could happen was that I would attain my New Year’s Resolution of failing. So why not? It was time for me to be “brave.”

But even with the reassuring words from friends and family (I really am grateful), I still do feel lacking in bravery. However, in absence of that, there is another feeling. Excitement. I don’t know if I’m a freak for loving it, but jumping into the unknown is what hits the refresh button on my life. I’d rather skip into uncertainty than mindless shuffle down a path of contentness. And for that reason alone, I see the next few weeks, or maybe months,  of job hunting as something that will only add to my overall experience. I’ve always heard that sometimes the journey is more rewarding than the destination. And I’m ready to roam around a bit to see if that’s true.

And one last thing. I know I promised that I would quit it with the sailing references, but I have one more. Before making my decision, I reached out to my mentor. The same mentor that’s helped me with all of my decisions, whether they be brave, foolish or just a no-brainer. In a long winded email I weighed the pros and cons of my choices. I wavered back and forth time and time again. And ultimately got to the point in asking her, “Am I an idiot for giving up the security I have at my job for something that I don’t even know exists yet?” In typical fashion she responded with just a few words that somehow still managed to answer it all. A quote:

“A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.” – Shedd.

My decision was made.

So, in short, I’m happy to wear this badge of bravery. I’m even happier to wear it’s twin badge of foolishness. Because when it comes down to it, that’s all a good career is made up of anyway.

And to friends reading this post today that know a guy or knows a guy that knows a guy, spread the word:

Writer seeking a home to store his words.