Homecoming

They say, “do what you love, and you’ll never work another day in your life.” 

My pragmatic self usually gives this platitude the side-eye. Let’s face it: there are bills to pay and responsibilities to carry. Most of us can’t simply abandon practicality in pursuit of passion. 

But my aspirational self has also experienced the truth of it, even though it’s taken many decades to feel the warmth of that belief casting its sunshine into my heart.

When it comes to work, I’m blessed in that I’m wired to enjoy it. I see jobs as opportunities–to learn things, meet people, and travel to new places. Novelty and variety are the twin engines that have driven my career choices. 

And as I’ve traveled my career path, those engines propelled me toward an ever-evolving portfolio . After college, I pursued a series of corporate roles in HR, training, and organizational development which led to the eventual formation of a consulting firm I operated for 20 years.  It was stimulating, rewarding work. In addition to compiling a solid skillset in the human relations field, I gained something even more valuable: many treasured professional relationships, mentors, and deep, lasting friendships.

And yet.

It was still “work.” Work I enjoyed, but still something that paid the bills. It didn’t feed my soul, but I couldn’t see that then. The misalignment was masked by my industriousness and career-driven nature. 

In hindsight the disconnect is clear. For example, after a day of facilitating a training session, I would drag myself home with a head-pounding migraine. I told myself it was the long hours, the stress of running a business. And later, towards the end of my consulting career, when clients asked me to coach their team members, I provided that service, but something wasn’t connecting. It just didn’t feel like I was making a difference, even though the clients told me otherwise. My work was like a pinpoint leak in a tire, slowly deflating my energy. That’s when I realized that a person can be really good at their job, but still have it drain them.  

In 2015, I was ready for a change. I was washing the dishes one night, thinking about what my “next chapter” might be and a little voice finally spoke up loudly enough to be heard: I want to write. Tears of relief and joy mixed into the dishwater. I have always loved writing but didn’t really see it as a viable way to make a living. 

Building on connections made in my decade of blogging, I took a leap of faith into the world of freelance writing. I didn’t have the bona fides of an English degree or journalism experience, so there persisted in me doubts about whether I belonged in that world.  Even so, I eked out a living and loved it. 

10 years later, I was at another crossroads. After a decade of hard work building my freelance writing business, AI was encroaching like an invasive plant species: visually interesting yet ultimately toxic to creative pursuits. A chance request from a former consulting client to help him write some memoir essays led to my eventual discovery of Guided Autobiography–which was a perfect pairing of my workshop facilitation skills and my writing background. Could this be that elusive “not working another day in my life”?

I earned a Guided Autobiography Instructor certification in the spring of 2025. Since then, I’ve facilitated several Life Stories workshops and taken on two private clients to help them organize their memoir materials. It was effortless. Nourishing in ways I’d never felt in other careers.

A few months ago, the Birren Center for Autobiographical Studies issued a call for submissions for their latest anthology of essays. An email popped into my inbox. It was one of my GAB graduates, Staci, saying she wanted to submit an essay. Would I edit it for her? The next day, another email, this one from Julie, asking the same thing.

As I sat there in my office, an unfamiliar feeling bloomed. A settled sense of belonging. “This is where I’m supposed to be,” I remember thinking. I’m home. 

During the years when I was offering coaching services, a certified executive coach told me that coaching was a calling and that not everyone was cut out for it. She was right. I was good at the roles that I fulfilled professionally, and many of them were enjoyable. But to me, they felt like really fun vacation destinations–interesting and exciting for a short time, but not where I wanted to put down roots. They weren’t my calling.

In my current role as a narrative guide, I use the most enjoyable pieces of my past professional experiences — workshop facilitation, and yes, even coaching—and marry them to my true love, writing. It’s been a beautiful homecoming and I can’t imagine living anywhere else. 

In my Life Stories workshops some folks write that from an early age they knew what they wanted to be when they grew up. Their spark ignited early and stayed lit throughout their lifetime. Many of us aren’t that lucky. We bump along, experiencing brief moments of inspiration, but then settle back into a daily life that dims that flame of our aspirations. It’s a meandering path at best, and one that may or may not arrive at the destination we’d hoped for.

As for me? I’ve been on a decades-long apprenticeship, and I’ve finally been granted permanent residency in a space that fills me up completely. Here’s the rub: I don’t think I could have arrived here any sooner than I did. Every professional role has taught me something I now carry into this chapter: facilitation, listening, guiding, encouraging, narrative development, and writing. I had to go through all the permutations of my career to finally arrive here, ready to do this work. 

After all these years, I’m grateful to have finally found my professional home.