Time and Values

Sisters, have any of you ever reached a point in your lives when a situation has totally gotten the better of you and you knew it was time to just throw in the towel and walk away? If you walked away, did you feel better? Or worse? Did you feel like a quitter? Guilty? How did you cope with the fallout?

This is coming from the fact that I am burned out. Poof. All energy gone. At least, during the day my energy is gone. My job is sucking the life out of me. It has less to do with the job and more to do with the environment. I used to enjoy getting up for work, heading to the office, and bouncing through my eight hours. Now, I dread going to bed at night, because I know I have to go to work in the morning. I'm ready to just walk away. That is NOT a good thing.

My husband and I do okay financially, but sometimes, I just wish we could be independently wealthy. Then, I could quit my day job and stay home with my little girl, but I could still keep myself mentally stimulated by teaching at night—which I do now and absolutely enjoy. With no money worries, I could buy my husband that set of golf clubs he’s been pining for (for two years now) and he could get himself a manly pick-up truck to use on days when his fuel-efficient family car leaves him feeling old and boring.

I could spend more time gardening and landscaping. I could finally volunteer my time at a shelter or local park. I could even plan fabulous family dinners every night!

I would donate more often to the causes that mean a lot to me and my family—St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital, the CAP Fund and the Jimmy V Foundation.

I would donate to my church so they could reduce their debt, and even donate a little more so they could add a crying room for the little ones who can’t quite make it through a full mass.

I could do all of that. I would do all of that.

And as I sit here writing this, I realize that my job-related headache is why I want to be independently wealthy. It’s not about oodles of money for fancy houses, boats, cars, jewelry, etc. It’s about focusing on my values and having the time and energy to devote to the things that are the most important to me—family and helping others.

I’m not just burned out. I’m sad, too. Sad, because there are people all around the world, just like me, who yearn for the same things, and also just like me, trudge to and from a job everyday to keep a home and food available. Is this what “living” is really all about? I can’t help but think that we’re missing out on something. Something amazing. Something I know I could have, if only I could afford it. And that makes me the most sad, I think…all that we sacrifice in order to be able to “afford” our values.