The Day My Body Made My Decision: The Body-First Decision Framework That Made Me Quit My Dream Job

I stood in the middle of my living room, staring at five pieces of paper arranged in a line across the floor. My heart was racing. After years of building a successful career in clinical trials at a prestigious company—the kind of position my classmates from medical university would envy—I was actually considering throwing it all away. For what? To become a full-time coach.

The coaching had started as a side hustle, something I did on weekends and evenings. But it had gradually consumed more and more of my thoughts, my energy, my passion. While my corporate job paid well and offered security, it was my coaching clients whose stories stayed with me, whose transformations gave me a sense of purpose I couldn't find in clinical research.

For months, I'd been trapped in decision paralysis. I'd made the pros and cons lists. I'd calculated the financial risks. I'd asked friends and family for advice. But I still couldn't decide.

"There has to be another way to make this decision," I thought to myself.

That's when I remembered a decision-making framework I'd learned years ago—one that bypassed the endless logical loops of my analytical mind and tapped into something deeper.

I grabbed five blank sheets of paper and a marker. On the first, I wrote "NOW" in bold letters. On two others, I wrote my options: "STAYING IN MY CORPORATE JOB" and "SWITCHING TO FULL-TIME COACHING." On the remaining two, I wrote "5 YEARS AFTER."

I placed the "NOW" paper in the center of my living room. Then, I shuffled the two option papers, closed my eyes, and randomly placed them on either side of "NOW." Without looking at what was written on them, I completed each timeline with a "5 YEARS AFTER" paper.

The setup was complete: a line of five papers creating two potential life paths, with me standing at the crossroads.

I stood on the "NOW" paper and took a deep breath. I turned to face one direction, not knowing which future I was about to walk toward. My only intention was to notice—truly notice—how my body responded to each potential future.

I took a slow step forward onto the first option paper. I paused there, closed my eyes, and paid attention to the sensations in my body. What was I feeling? Tightness in my chest. A slight constriction in my throat. My shoulders had unconsciously hunched forward. Interesting.

Without turning over the paper to see which option it was, I continued to the "5 YEARS AFTER" marker on this same path. Standing there, imagining myself five years down this road, the sensations intensified. The tightness in my chest became almost uncomfortable. My breathing was shallow. There was a heaviness in my stomach that felt like dread disguised as stability.

I walked back to "NOW" and reset. Then I turned and walked the other path.

As I stepped onto the first option of this alternative path, something shifted immediately. My shoulders relaxed. I noticed I was taking deeper breaths. There was a fluttering in my stomach—not the heaviness I'd felt before, but something lighter. Nervousness? Excitement? Both, perhaps.

Continuing to the "5 YEARS AFTER" marker on this path, the sensations evolved. The fluttering remained, but now there was a warmth spreading through my chest. I realized I was smiling. My posture had changed—I was standing taller, more open. Despite the uncertainty, my body felt alive here.

I returned to "NOW" once more and stood in silence, comparing the two experiences. The contrast was stark. One path felt constraining, heavy, suffocating in its comfort. The other felt expansive, energizing, alive despite its uncertainty.

The choice was clear—not from logic, but from the wisdom of my body.

Only then did I turn over the papers to see which was which. The path that made my body constrict was "STAYING IN MY CORPORATE JOB." The one that made me stand taller was "SWITCHING TO FULL-TIME COACHING."

My body had known all along.

Two weeks later, I handed in my resignation. The rational part of my brain still panicked—was I making a massive mistake? Giving up security for uncertainty? But my body remembered that feeling of expansion, of rightness, and I trusted it.

Today, I look back on that evening with the papers on my floor as one of the most important moments of my life. Not because the decision was easy—it wasn't—but because I learned to trust a different kind of intelligence.

I've since used this somatic decision-making approach for other major life choices. Each time, it cuts through the mental noise and connects me with a deeper knowing.

Logic has its place in decision-making. But for the choices that shape the direction of our lives, sometimes we need to let our bodies have a vote. Mine voted for courage over comfort, purpose over security. And despite all the challenges of entrepreneurship, I've never once regretted listening.

And that’s not all. If you find this series on “Decision Making Mastery” useful, give it a thumbs up and send it to the person who needs some support in making a decision. And I will share a few more useful frameworks in the next articles. Stay subscribed and enjoy yourself!