KNOW WHEN TO FOLD 'EM (QUITTING AS A PRACTICE)

I am not a person who gambles.

At least not with money.

When I was a newlywed, my in-laws

took us to a casino while we were visiting the west coast

because my father-in-law loved the crab leg buffet.

They also gave us $100 for gambling money 

-which at the time was more money than we could 

ever put together at the end of the month.

I didn't enjoy the experience at all but my spouse did (sort of).

He played slot machines with me anxiously tracking his 

net change of dollars.

Every time he had more than $200 on the tab, 

I made him cash out and start over with the original $100.

At the end of the night, we had a nice little nest egg of $800

and I was a shaking, sweaty mess of anxiety.

We actually lost $200 before I could convince him

to walk away all the way.

It was a windfall but it was earned at a cost to my peace of mind.

My line for when to walk away was

different than my spouses

but we both eventually agreed to end

the risk taking in favor of the cash in hand.

Each time I've been to Vegas or a riverboat (usually for work)

I entertain myself with people watching and talking to my friends.

If I'm truthful, the knowledge that the house always wins

steals any amount of fun from me.

I don't like games that are rigged against me

and the element of chance or risk feels

scary to me instead of thrilling

and that's one of the ways that I'm informed

more broadly when it comes to risk taking.

If you looked at the trajectory of my life though

you might disagree that I'm not a professional gambler.

Almost every move I've made in my life

has been a gamble that had little chance of success.

From college to marriage to my career

I would not have been a safe bet if you looked

at much of my backstory.

However, like many survivors, I trust my gut

to let me know when it's time to shift

and I have the commitment to back myself.

I'm scrappy and committed;

smart and adaptable;

tenacious and sometimes charming.

I am not a quitter-

I get after it.

These are words my subconscious

has said to me twenty times a day 

for the past 30 years.

I push through the pain

to get to the other side.

This blog is littered with posts

about me juggling a ton of 

responsibilities and pushing through

past the point where my physical or mental

abilities should continue.

@the.holistic.psychologist is a useful source of healing on instagram

I've spent a lot of time learning to stay

and stay well.

Leaning in, connecting, loving through hard things,

building community and living 

with authenticity.

Except I've struggled mightily to understand

that part of being authentic includes

the quitting.

Acknowledging when the race is run,

the party is over,

the project is complete,

you don't have to go home but you can't stay here.

Many of my friends already know this

but my practice for 2022 is

going to be focused on quitting.

What does quitting look like?

I'm not sure I know

but I am definitely going to learn.

Remember?  I know how to #getafterit

I'm going to start by quitting the things that

 don't serve me and

are blocking me from joy,

or are just simply played out.

I've got an incomplete list

that will serve as a lovely starting point

but I'm excited to see how it evolves.

you can find your own Spiritual AF cards here

I'm going to focus on making sure that 

more things have a stated time frame-

start AND end dates please.

I'm going to gently remind my soul

that while it is infinite,

my time in this incarnation is not.

If I want to experience some things

in this life, I'm going to have

to stop carrying the load for 

commitments made in the early mists

 of my beginning so I can

step into the work of my maturity.

I'm going to focus on quitting

and that space left by the things

I let go of, will be fertile

ground for possibility.

That feels a lot to me like

gambling or risk taking.

How do you know when to 

fold 'em, hold 'em or walk away?

I'd like to think that there's an art to 

knowing when to let go of something

but that's actually bullshit.

There's value in the staying,

value in the quitting, 

value in the pause.

How do you know when to walk away?

Two great teachers of mine said it best:

It's time to go when you can no longer stay.

Only I know that answer for myself;

only you know that answer for yourself.

From graceful exits and disastrous mike drops-

there really isn't a right or a wrong.

The exit that is right is the one that you can 

live with or live through.

All the rest is just avoidance or semantics or vanity 

or window dressing or trying to make sure that 

your grandma doesn't have to listen to a 

rehash of your antics at every church potluck

 for the next two decades.

When it's time to go because

staying hurts just a little teeny tiny bit more

than going-it's time to call it.

Fold 'em.

Walk away.

Maybe run.

I always love hearing what your intention word or 

practice focus for the year

will be so be sure to let me know.

Setting intention is not part of what I will

be quitting anytime soon

and neither is connection.