I used to wonder if one person could make a difference. This wasn’t a philosophical exercise that I pondered in some detached way.  For me, this question was more critical than that. I tried to ignore it by keeping busy with social events and classes (this was before I had my kids), but I couldn’t run from the nagging notion that there might be a bigger way to live my life.   The possibility at least offered a promise that there could be meaningful work beyond my IBM cubicle, which had begun to close in on my like a cage.  So in 2003, still without answers, I took the plunge and resigned from my job.

A steady paycheck wasn’t overrated in those days (or any day), so I don’t want to sound blasé about the decision.  Leaving behind a good job to start over in sales was difficult on many levels. I had worked extremely hard to build a career in management consulting with a top firm.   But I hadn’t done it for any more compelling reasons than to make money and have a title.  Like any other ambitious person, I wanted to be somebody.  Yet, in trying so hard to do so, I had become somebody else.  I was more or less okay with this until my eyes began opening to what I might be missing.