I have to admit, I am one who marks anniversaries. Maybe it’s because I’ve been reminded too many times over these last years that life is short and one ought to pay attention to what matters all of the time. Or maybe my brain has trouble letting go. Whatever the reason, here it goes.

A year ago today I was fired. It was the “effective immediately, here are some boxes for your stuff, we’ll take your keys” sort of exit. I was given a reason without details, there wasn’t a chance to ask questions or answer any. And I’m sure I did something. I respect the people I worked with and for. They weren’t in the habit of making stuff up. And yet…it wasn’t pretty and I was in shock and heartbroken and humiliated.

But here is where it gets messy. Over these last years, I’ve worked really hard to be a human who leads with her growing edge, who doesn’t hide the messy parts of me, who believes that people only grow through the hard stuff. So, I told people I had been fired, I mean I told everyone. And I’ve tried to own what was mine to own. And I leaned into my community, even though to be honest, my instinct has always been to lean out and away when I feel vulnerable.

I felt like it was a test to see if I would live up to my own beliefs about how people grow, and what leadership might look.

And it has been hard but mostly it has been beautiful. That is really what I reflect on here as I mark the moment, of an awful, humiliating thing that became this grand adventure of knowing, I mean knowing at the core of my being, this amazing gift of grace and love and community.

A couple of days after the day, a former colleague sent me a quick note. He ended it with, “Wishing you perspective, grace and confidence.” I have carried those words like a blessing and a challenge over these last 365 days.

I have been reminded over and over and over again that I lost a job, a thing.

I didn’t lose my mom.

I’m not battling Stage IV cancer and having to leave a job I love because the chemo is ravaging my body.

My marriage isn’t falling apart.

Perspective.

I’m a hot mess and the people who love me know that, it wasn’t actually a surprise to them. And they love me still.

Having lived my own story deeply over this last year, I know that life is complicated, we humans are complicated, and there is almost always more going on than we can see.

I am employed, again, by this organization I love, by people I respect and who respect me, even still.

Grace.

Being loved so abundantly that it honestly hurts my heart, allows my roots to grow deep.

After I was fired, I had conversation after conversation with people who wanted to tell me about the impact I had had on them, on the world as they saw it. Truly, it was a bit awkward but mostly it was a generous, extravagant gift most don’t get in their 45th year.

I had already planned to celebrate my 45th year by spending time with people who are dear to me. And as I did that I came to know myself and my gifts and my responsibility to the world and my growing edges ever more deeply.

Confidence.

Here is the deal. I would love to not ever be fired again. But it didn’t kill me. In fact, there is something amazing about coming to know, again, that life is both/and. To know that I messed up and yet that isn’t my whole story.

And mostly, I am grateful, in a way that makes me unwilling to un-choose the road on which I learned it, for the chance to learn to be more present, more wisely vulnerable and to be brave in the company of an amazing tribe of humans who love me enough to hold steady, to challenge me, to create the space for redemption.

So here’s to anniversaries!