Jump or be Pushed

Jump or be pushed? It’s a doozy of a question.

Last year, I had to make that decision. You see, I had this job. A job that your parents would want you to have. I worked close to home, for one of the country’s biggest companies, and I earned more money than I was used to. Even had the word ‘Manager’ in my job title (whoa).

The job was murderous. You know, didn’t get along with the boss, no one really knew what my job was. But more than that, I had no passion for what I did. I battled through each day and most nights I went to sleep dreading sun up the next day.

So when the big boss told me to jump or be pushed, I jumped. I had no job to go to and no way to pay the mortgage on the house Kesh and I had only just moved into.

I am blessed to have married Kesh. She believes in me more than I believe in me. We mapped out our options on our blackboard wall. Marketing gigs, which I was bored of, as well as some new options: exercise science, vet science or something else, like web design. One of the options was ‘photographer’.  To be honest, I was a bit embarrassed to tell people that’s what I wanted to be.

I’m a marketing graduate. ‘And you want to be a photographer?’

‘Yeah, I do’.

I’m not there yet. Not by a whole heap. But I am a lot closer than I was last year. Closer to doing something that I love for a living.

We have moved to Werri Beach so that I can study. Today, like every other day this week, Kesh and I worked in the garden/jungle that is the backyard. It poured with rain and then the sun would burn out. Humidity to ridiculous levels. Shots below.

On Monday, I start my course in screen and media. I’ll keep you posted…