Taking a Year Off

I find this post from the blog stuffwhitepeoplelike.com to be nearly inspirational. Not only am I the typical white, mid-twenties male that the blog is devoted to stereotyping, I am the incarnation of the stereotype - Not really, but I thought that would be a cool thing to say. Either way, the referenced post most closely resembles my feelings on the subject of "Taking a Year Off".*

*Kind of like an SAT Question asking you to use parallel reasoning: "Choose the word that most resembles what this image represents" WTF?!

I was like any other high school graduate, looking forward to going to college, getting my degree, graduating and getting a super-high paying job that didn't require much effort on my part, but still gave me the societal status and respect that I deemed a necessary part of life. College graduation came and went* and once my band broke up it was time to "grow up" and get one of those business jobs that I occasionally tried to think about when I was caught in the 4-year moment of procrastination called college.

So I moved back home* and started my "grown up job" search - I was set on getting a sales position with a reputable company, getting buttloads of customers to buy whatever product I was selling and making my cool million before my 30th birthday. Ok, I wasn't really that naive, but I thought I would at least land a decent job with a good company and over time be given the opportunity to prove my worth and move up the corporate ladder. After a grueling 13 interviews and not much luck, I was able to land my current job working in logistics for a used medical equipment company. 

*I'm awesome. I gave my mom 2 hours notice before I moved home!

Fast forward 2 years, and I'm in a quandary. Although my job doesn't meet my past expectations of wealth, status, or sense of personal satisfaction, it does have a few benefits. First of all, I am well liked by my coworkers (or so I think!), superiors, and those with whom I do business. My position is stable in a time where many people are struggling to stay employed (even at my company), and I have enough money to 1.) pay the bills 2.) eat, & 3.) have fun with it without pinching pennies.  

My issue arises in the fact that the structure of business that I have been introduced to is one that routinely bends the rules of ethics and has dollar sign eyeballs. I am well aware of the fact that the sole purpose of many companies is to make money, and a lot of it. I realize that in order to gain a competitive advantage, opportunities need to be taken advantage of and uncomfortable situations must be encountered at times.  Despite the need for this maximization of profits, something intensely personal gets lost in the translation - it's as if the human-ness of people is lost when wallets are to be fattened by the few at the expense of many. 

This brings me to my ultimate point. I need to take a year off to clear my head. While money and success dictate my priorities and goals, I've come to realize that I resemble closely the culture in which I've been immersed - the culture of using people for personal gain and placing my wants above the needs of others. This break is not exclusively about taking a break from slightly crooked, yet legal business practices, but more of a personal retreat of sorts. 

I've decided that now is the time to make a move - I don't want to wake up when I'm 40 and have a mid-life crisis wondering how I got into a situation that I don't love. I don't want to need the sports car to validate my own sense of self-worth, and I certainly want to make the right decisions when it comes to who I marry when that opportunity arises. I want to learn to give up control of my life and let God put me in the place that He wants me. If you reference my post of a couple days ago - here - I don't want to be lukewarm. I want to be hardcore in everything I do - faith, family, career, friends, recreation - EVERYTHING.

We'll see where I am in a year. I hope that in this year I can learn some things about myself and find out where God wants to put me. I'm a blank blueprint...