The plan was in full motion. We finalized arrangements with the property manager and secured a move in date for the tenants. The house would only stay empty for a week, enough time for us to move any remaining items out and time for contractors to come in and handle repairs, do a deep clean, and apply fresh coats of paint.

The checklist now turned into a full choreography of contractors, customer support agents, and utility companies. When to cut off water, gas, internet. Because we still had to live despite having all our things in boxes.

My wife and I had set up de facto zones in our garage.

Donations over here. Neighborhood pickups here. Trash here. Boxes there.

Having so many things to do required a healthy dose of patience to get through all of the phone calls, waiting in lines, the mundane moments in between, and each other.

The office

In the final weeks at work, I had a checklist as well. Albeit one I followed a little more loosely. Deadlines on the calendar to write supporting promotion recommendations, end recurring meetings, handoff conversations, my goodbye email.

On the Zoom calls as the days progressed, people saw how my office was deconstructed one by one. One shelf taken down, then another, exposing holes from covid-era home projects.

The office, a studio green room that looked like something out of an interior design photo shoot, was now barren and eggshell white. Compliments were now replaced with gasps as people processed that I was actually moving on.

The echo got louder.

Before I left, I wrote a goodbye letter to the company. I wanted to acknowledge the journey, highlight what mattered most, and leave people with something useful. Not just a farewell.

Hey team,

It’s time for me to begin my next episode.

After nearly eight years, I’m moving on to my next play. Leaving a place that’s had such a transformative impact on my life personally and professionally isn’t easy. From the early days of a six-person design team to working on and overseeing projects of all shapes and sizes—there was never a dull moment!

I’m proud to have woven a small thread into this company’s fabric by helping to introduce new tools, co-leading employee resource groups, welcoming acquired teams, and elevating talent initiatives across the Design Org. Above all, I’ll always treasure the relationships I’ve built over the years.

I leave with deep gratitude.

If I can offer any advice, operate with courage and a bias for action. If you have a new idea or think we can do something better, do your best to bring it to reality. Don’t settle for the status quo. Of course, ensure we’re operating in the best interests of our members and craft every detail you ship with care. That’s how we grow and how we push the work forward.

So, what does the next episode entail? I’ll be taking some time off and living abroad for twelve months. I’ll be sure to update my LinkedIn on travels, but I’m looking forward to immersing myself in different cultures, trying new things, and attempting to speak a new language or two.

Goodbye for now.

-Harrison

(FYI Project names redacted)

There were subtle things I alluded to. Things that come across as a few words but were deeper than what meets the eye.

“Isn’t easy” — I never imagined myself leaving the corporate comforts for something that wasn’t defined. A steady paycheck, career progression, the safety of knowing what Monday would look like. Walking away from that for a blank page was harder than I let on.

“Woven a small thread” — The work I was involved in went beyond what some people saw. Many only knew me in one capacity, but the contributions spanned tools, culture, acquisitions, and talent. I wanted to remind people, and maybe myself, that the impact was broader than any single project.

“Operate with courage and a bias for action” — This was advice I wished I had heard earlier. Too often I watched ideas stall because people were afraid to push. If something frustrated you, do something about it. Bet on your ideas instead of waiting for permission.

It felt like finally I was following some of the advice I had given.

The hitches

It wasn’t all seamless. A few things threatened to offset the deadline we had set for months.

The movers couldn’t flex when the container company pushed our date back three days. We scrambled to find a new crew within 48 hours, negotiate rates, and coordinate an additional container. What should have been a single moving day turned into two and added an extra expense.

Our flight to Korea left on Sunday but we needed to sign papers at an office on Monday. Our initial reaction was frustration. But then we stepped back. We would be leaving for a year. It was best to settle business even if it meant an extra day. Having that loose end a half a world away would have led to more complications. We did things for posterity.

The rehearsal

We were out of our place and sleeping at my in-laws. Our luggage consisted of two large trunks, two backpacks, and a cabin bag. This would be what we would be living out of as we moved from place to place. It was a dry run of the journey we were about to embark on.

We had the next four months of accommodation planned, South Korea to Tokyo, a mix of Airbnbs and medium term furnished rentals. We also had an outline of where we would be in the months following. My wife was a meticulous planner and had everything color coded and sorted for the year on a Canva spreadsheet. This proved convenient when trying to coordinate plans or simply remind me of where we would be when I was aloof. Even when nothing was booked, we had an idea of exactly where we would be and any notable events we needed to plan for. Like the occasional fireworks festival, autumn leaf peak, sporting event, or restaurant booking.

And then, somehow, it was done. The containers were off to the warehouse. The keys were handed off to the property manager. The loose ends were tied. After months of lists and coordination and doubt, we were standing on the other side of it.

All that was left was the Uber ride.

Check-in baggage.

Final boarding call.

We taxied on to the runway with a one way ticket to Seoul.