Timesheets | A Tale of Quitting
A story about the many things I've quit, and the doubts about my future
Hi,
This is a special post because Timesheets is back !
Some of you may remember, a couple of years ago, I started a sub-series on my podcast called Timesheets with the intention of documenting all of the chaos that can be seen in adulthood.
I did released 3 episodes. Then I promised a bunch more, and as is the case with me: all those different ideas went down the drain.
After over a year now, I’ve finally managed to make another Timesheets episode.
A lot has changed since.
This particular episode is about quitting. Quitting your hobbies and in my case, quitting my jobs.
Give it a listen !
(Note: I’d urge you to listen before/during reading)
One of my favorite fictional characters is Naruto. A core part of his philosophy is to never give up.
No matter what your circumstances are, you shouldn’t give up. That was his ninja way.
He didn’t quit.
But I did.
I quit a lot.
I finished the 3rd role in my career so far. It isn’t easy to leave a stable, well-meaning job that gives you a regular income. And yet I did.
I quit.
I am ashamed when I think about it. I feel like I’ve let down so many people. I think I ran away.
What if I’m someone who just quits, and gives up? What if I don’t have the strength to take on the life that comes with adulting? I keep wondering if I’m just weak.
The thing is, I’ve quit many times before.
I quit my tennis classes when I was young. But, in a parallel universe, I’m a professional tennis player.
I quit my keyboard classes too. In a parallel universe, I’m playing the Interstellar theme in an airport. Live.
Sigh.
These are some of the lies I tell myself to feel better about quitting.
I quit basketball in university. But, let’s just say I wasn’t going to be an NBA player in any parallel universe.
There are so many other hobbies and projects which I can think of that I started and after some time, I gave up on them.
Why did I do that?
I can point to a lot of things. I was bored. Life got in the way. I never made time. I was afraid.
I was afraid to acknowledge that I might not be “good” at these things. And I believed that the only reason to pursue these hobbies and projects was if you’re “good enough”.
I never was.
At the time, people told me (and I also believed) that I had “high potential”. I could be very good at playing tennis, or the piano or even basketball.
But someone wise told me that when someone says you have high potential, it just means you haven’t achieved something great enough yet to talk about that thing instead. It was said more poetically, but you get the point.
Smart people can ride on the high of being someone with high potential for a while. But eventually you hit roadblocks. You have to pay back the ego debts.
And I kept myself satisfied in the head, with this assessment.
But the truth is, I never acted on it. I didn’t stay focused. I saw some other incredible people pursue these same things, and I questioned whether I would ever get there. I never put in the effort required to feel good about leveling up.
I was happy and satisfied with my parallel universes.
I know my thoughts around this have changed over the years. I recognize the value of hobbies. I don’t have this innate desire to be “good” at it. While I didn’t pick those up when I was younger, I know that I can pick them up again.
Maybe I’ll have fun this time around. I’ll be able to reconnect with that old joy.
But my career is different.
The decisions I’ve taken while quitting my jobs, seem a lot more irreversible and definitely haunt me.
Take for example: the 2 years of preparing for entrance exams. 5 years of law school. Almost a year of working as a corporate lawyer.
And at the end of this 8-year journey, I decided that law isn’t for me.
I quit.
I didn’t know what I wanted my future to look like, but I just knew that I needed to experiment and pursue something else. And I thought now is the only time I’ll have to try different things.
Did I rush? Was it the right choice? What if I stuck around longer?
Immediately after, I decided I should set up a business with my family. If a marwari doesn’t try to be an entrepreneur, who would. Within half a year, I realized I don’t have the obsession required to run a business.
I quit.
Should I have analyzed my decision more? What if I was willing to take on bigger risks? Did I take the right path?
I stepped away and decided to take my skills in the field of news and media. This was the most recent stint. Also the longest. I was happy with the work I was doing, until I wasn’t.
I quit.
Am I making enough money? What’s the best way to use my time? Should I go back to law?
I quit these roles partly because I didn’t see a future for myself. I quit because my instinct told me there's something else out there. I quit because I wasn’t satisfied.
At the time, I didn’t regret any of these decisions. These were thoughtful. I feel like I didn’t rush into them. I was confident about the choice I was making.
But, quitting your job is scary.
It’s only after the fact that I hyper analyze every micro decision I had taken. I pick apart my trajectory. I carefully pick instances where I could’ve done something different. I carve out a path that I didn’t walk on, to see if that was better.
I get stuck in a loop of wondering if I am on the “right path”.
What if I’m only making bad choices all the time? What happens then? What if I’m always on the wrong road?
I’m surrounded by this fear. I don’t know where things are headed. I’m not clear about my own priorities.
I am ashamed about all the times I’ve quit. I feel like I’m running away from my problems. I should be battling them out head on, instead of giving up. If only I was more resilient, maybe things would work out for the better. Maybe I could’ve made better choices….
Anything that offers substantial rewards comes with risk, a high likelihood of failure. Which means you’ll need to make several appearances at the plate before you connect with the ball. The top scorers in the Premier League miss half their shots. Great players, like great entrepreneurs and leaders, see the ball go wide, shake their head, and move on. If you want to be successful, you will likely need to quit the majority of your jobs, homes, friends, and investments. Your jobs, locale, investments, and relationships are commitments, not suicide pacts.
My doubts are always following me around. And, all I can do is to learn to live with them.
These days, I am trying hard to remind myself that life is quite long. There are decades worth of experiences to be lived.
That I didn’t quit just for the heck of it. I was looking ahead. Searching for something. Learning more about myself and the world in the process.
I remind myself to go back to my journal and text messages I sent my friends about how I felt when I quit.
I often wrote about how I felt I was in a rut. I felt stuck and anxious. I mentioned how dissatisfied I was with my days.
I remember writing about how a weight was lifted off my chest after quitting my first job, and I felt light. I definitely wrote about how circumstances around me and my family were changing. I had to adapt.
I know I wrote about the hope I had for a better future.
The question is, will this hope last? How long should I be searching? Will all these dots connect?
I hope they do.
I hope they do.
Because, what is the alternative?
Thank you so much for listening (and reading) !
Let me know what you thought.
Take care,
Nirmal Bhansali
Very well curated ✨✨✨