The battle to actually get paid for my work (you know, per the freelance contract I signed) has whittled me into a sharp, shiny point. Concurrently, opportunities are opening up on a local level that I couldn't have contemplated a year ago (or a month ago, honestly).
Freedom is an interesting concept right now. For me, now, it's knowing you can contribute financially to your family. Freedom to be home when necessary, to pick up dinner rather than whip it up from scratch, to grab an extra day of daycare here and there. But there's also freedom in deciding your contributions won't be financial. You save money by caring for your children, bargain shopping at the grocery store, consigning used clothes and toys, and supporting the people who make your house a home.
Or, potentially, the freedom of soaring in your own direction, to carve a new career out of something that you love and that you're good at. Something that started small but has become a huge part of your life. The freedom of getting paid for doing what you love.
And here's the crux for me. Is financial security worth performing a service that you loathe? If you aren't paying me in a timely manner and I have to fight and scratch for the money that I've already earned ... is it irresponsible to walk away -- and embark on opportunities that may not pay off in the long run, but that make my soul happy?
So there it is. The freedom I'm contemplating carries tremendous risk. It would require sacrifice and buckling down. A potentially wonderful, well-suited-to-me career change could mean no freedom at all. Or it could mean living the life I dream of.
I'm teetering on a line here and one foot has already lifted. Do I stop expecting to find joy and purpose in my job or do I use my freedom to jump?
How about you? Have you ever fought your inner desire for stability and taken a leap of faith that could affect your family? And here's my take on the freedom that comes with a second (or third or fourth) child.