Living out of alignment doesn’t usually whisper. It taps, nudges, and then, when we keep ignoring, it hits us over the head with a hammer until we finally pay attention.
That’s how I felt in 2010, when I finished my Master’s in Teaching in New York City.
When I moved there in 2008, I always said I’d stay for two years, finish school, then move somewhere else to find my first teaching job. But by the end of those two years, I drank the city Kool-Aid and decided to try to make it work in NYC.
Eight interviews. Eight rejections.
I was at a loss.
I refused to re-sign my lease unless I had a job. Something told me not to. It was an amazing apartment - 250 square feet, great price for the city, perfect location. But it didn’t feel right. So I gave it up. I put everything I owned into storage and moved in with a friend for a month while commuting daily to Brooklyn for my summer job and trying to figure out what was next.
Looking back, that was the first sign.
This was 2010, still close enough to the 2008 crash that many teachers who had left the profession were returning. Jobs were competitive. Options were limited.
My dad came to town to help me think it through. We sat at the pub around the corner from my old apartment and made a list - what I was looking for, what mattered to me, and which cities could offer that kind of life.
It came down to New Orleans and Seattle. Two very different places.
I was drawn to the mountains and the ocean, so I booked a trip to Seattle. In two days, I had five interviews. I left with three job offers and one call back.
That was the second sign.
I accepted a position that day at the school that would become my professional home - and honestly, my family - for the next twelve years. A story for another day, but without question one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
The very next day, I found and signed a lease for a beautiful apartment in a neighborhood that felt like me.
The third sign.
At the time, I didn’t recognize any of this as “signs.” I just knew something needed to change. I trusted my gut and kept moving. Only later did I realize how clearly the pieces had been falling into place.
Now, standing at the start of a new year, I feel that same energy again.
A sign for movement. A sign to share my light and my knowledge. An instinctual wisdom I’m listening to, accepting, and actively bringing into fruition.
So watch out, 2026 - here I come.
As we enter this new year, I’ll leave you with this:
Because living and working in alignment isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about paying attention when life keeps sending the same message.
And listening to that message, that’s where joy lives.