A dream job doesn't mean it's my dream

For the fifth time today, I’ve opened DocuSign, signed the severance offer but let the session timeout —  never hitting the send button. I did the same yesterday.  I have an extension because it was due last week. 

When I first joined this digital agriculture team, there were maybe fifteen people. Now after a six year career with the company, it’s grown to hundreds of people from Singapore to São Paulo. From starting as a senior designer building single features to leading teams in five countries,  then deciding to get more hands-on again for a European team, it’s been eventful.  

Applying design in agriculture takes you to some really interesting people and places. Farmers are good people.  A “No bullshit” customer who’s direct and happy to share how they’ve been doing things. There’s no sugar coating. 

Whether I was meeting a massive farming co-op with their NASA-like command centers in Ukraine. Or sketching out an idea while hiding away from the rain in a cattle barn. Working in Agriculture always challenged me, and taught me something new.

Yet this company has also presented its share of frustrations. The kind of place where you take two steps forward and one and a half steps back. Management and direction shuffles while the projects need to keep on going. But this kind of environment forces you to sharpen your skills or get dull — which is probably why I stayed so long. I’ve crashed a lot, through what feels like twenty one org changes. Projects near completion, only to be cancelled. Or the company pivoting and ignoring half of our research.

But things have improved a lot. It feels like the puzzle pieces are finally fitting together. Months of good projects are stacking up.  And after all these years I’ve been able to bring a lot of what I’ve learned to a new product that my team is launching in six days! 🎉🕺🚀🎉

And now I am thinking of leaving?! Hitting that Docusign send button has me walking away from what's now working. 

But it's not all rainbows. Even though it’s going well for my team, there were a lot of bets in the company that didn't pan out. This global fertiliser company needs to save 150 Million dollars by September. Honestly, I didn't even know there were seven digital divisions. I knew there were three and thought it was overkill.  Now I am one of 700+ in Norway who’ve been offered a volunteer package to resign before the “cost reductions” move globally.

Since getting this offer there’s been a new fork in my path. On one side it’s more of what I know. The team and path I've helped build, and it's good!  It’s well lit and manicured off into the distance.

The other side: unknown, darkness. If I sign and hit send I’m committed to this new path.  This could go bad. I have a large mortgage. A two-year-old son. I live geographically remote above the arctic circle. I still don't know many people since moving, and am still learning Norwegian. I haven't looked for work in close to a decade.  And even though I have hundreds of past projects, I still haven’t put together a portfolio to apply for work. By signing this offer the company would be handing me back a fully charged flashlight, and a lot of extra batteries—to step off this comfortable path I know.

So I've been waiting, thinking, writing. 

Truth →  I'm scared, I'm excited. I'm telling myself they are two sides of the same emotion. Maybe I step off into the darkness and there is nothing, the job market is as bad as they say and I end up back doing manual labour. Or maybe I fall in the dark, I get sick and no one finds me.  Or maybe I end up finding another well lit path out there, something that I’m really excited about.  Or maybe I end up making a path of my own, then start to light the way for others. 

I don't know what'll come but that feels exciting. Not knowing, but knowing I'll figure it out. Even though this could go bad. The unknown has potential. More than I can currently imagine. Writing over the past weeks has made me realize—my biggest moments of growth and excitement have always come through change. But this time, I’m not running or acting out of fear. I love my life and have what many would call a dream job: autonomy, challenge, complexity I enjoy, and a team I enjoy working with  — the majority of the time. 

But a dream job doesn't mean it's my dream, I still don't know what that is. But picking up a flashlight to look, feels like a great way to find it. The alternative is hoping it finds me on a path someone else has lit. 

There is a mix of emotions in a decision like this. Leaving this company after so long feels like disconnecting part of my identity. It feels like closing a book after an intense roller coaster of stories, and lessons I wouldn't trade. 

Working for someone else they light the path, but when I start out on my own I’m turning on my own flashlight and stepping off into the dark to light my own way. We all have access to a flashlight. Our skills, network, and approach to life. And the ability to direct our light for the path we want to follow. Whether that’s turning in your flashlight to follow someone else or choosing to light our own way. 

So here's to picking up the flashlight, and taking a different kind of ownership. 
This unknown path is such a fortunate opportunity and too exciting to give up.  

So let's see what we find. 

If I follow any path that isn't my own,  I won't end up where I want to be — Even if I don’t know where that is yet.

I’ve hit send. 

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Ps. You if you enjoyed this, you may like a previous essay. “Stagnant water gets gross”.