I left my job at the public hospital today.

It was my first real job, one I felt passionately about. I worked alongside incredible colleagues, some of whom have devoted forty years of their lives to caring for people with nowhere else to turn.

These folks are the reason I went to work there. They are my heroes.

The truth is, though, that work was all-consuming. My identity became inseparable from my career; life took a backseat. I spent a year grappling with alternate paths. I knew that whatever I decided, I wasn’t going to find another place around town with such a strong sense of health justice.

In the end I took a very part-time gig working for the Man. Was it the right decision? It’s going to take time to figure that one out. This go around, I don’t think it’s work that will be the adventure, even if I’m not entirely sure what the adventure will be. I’ll be spending more time digging in the dirt. I’ll be visiting the farmers markets whenever I like now. I can perfect that killer loaf of artisan bread, if I choose. But I’m not sure that all I ever wanted was to be the domestic goddess of green living.

So I’m going to float for a while. I’m going to dream a lot. But I’ll keep my skeptical edge. For example, I’ve been thinking about how good organic food is beyond the reach of so many people, like those I took care of at the public hospital, who were delighted to get three soggy meals a day and a warm bed. I came to see that health and food are linked tightly. That good health and good food play big roles in equality and justice.

I’m going to take some time to contemplate these things and consider how I might play a bit part in our planetary drama. For starters, the food bank beds at the community garden need some serious TLC. There are amazing local groups like Northwest Harvest and Lettuce Link that I’m just starting to learn about. And those who know me know that when I get a little time on my hands I like to sit down and tell a good story. So stay tuned.