I know that millions have seen the YouTube clip and that the story of Susan Boyle is, in many ways, so last year.
But I stumbled onto the audition footage again last week and was as taken by the improbable superstar this time as I was when her story first broke. (For those of you who live under a rock, the clip can be viewed at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eOV2Pt_F-E&feature=related).
It all started with a question that is easy to ask, difficult to answer, and seemingly impossible to achieve. “What’s the dream?”
Difficult to hear over the rising laughter from the audience, Susan Boyle said she was, “trying to be a professional singer.”
“Why hasn’t it worked out so far, Susan?”
And this is the part that really struck me. At the age of 47, with years of disappointment behind her, Susan Boyle said, and still really believed, that she had not succeeded because she had “never been given the chance before, but here is hoping it will change.”
When the footage was first shown on TV, and then picked up by YouTube, I will admit it - I was one of the saps who watched the audition too many times in a row. Even more embarrassing is admitting that I again watched the clip back to back to back when I came across it last week.
I watch the clip on repeat because this is, I believe, the moment we all want to experience just once in our lives. The moment when what we have always wanted to do, what we are capable of doing, and what we are currently doing, intersect so beautifully.
A 47-year-old woman with an unfortunate hair cut made me tear up because we lived the moment in which she was given the chance to showcase her talent with her and she made the most of both her talent and her moment. The live audience, the judges, and I initially doubted her, just like she must have doubted herself millions of times throughout her life.
But, unlike so many of us, Susan Boyle had the strength and the belief that kept her moving forward.
We all wake up each morning and do something. My hope for myself is that I continue to move forward each day, just as Susan Boyle did, so that at some point I will also be able to reach the moment when my talents, my aspirations, and my current work combine to create a perfect storm of success and fulfillment.
And that is why I watch again and again and again. Because Susan Boyle is proof that there is a place where success and passion and talent meet and that this place is worth working towards no matter how long and bumpy the road.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
We were wondering, what do you actually do?
I thought I had gotten off to a good start.
I rocked my red pumps (the female equivalent of a power tie), my pencil skirt, and my perfectly pressed white shirt. I greeted everyone who came within a first down marker of me. I said the right things during my meetings and introduced myself to the right people during my down time.
Perhaps this getting back to work thing would be not as difficult as I imagined.
This perspective changed quickly, though, towards the end of my second day when I was hit with the question. Yep, the question.
“We were wondering,” the most vocal member of a group of women who were getting ready to call it a day said to me, “What do you actually do?”
There were many things that I was hoping to hear from this group of women. “We are glad to have you on board.” “We are excited to have your skills on our team.” “We cannot wait to work with you further.” These all would have fit the bill.
“What do you actually do?” does not have quite the same ring to it. The irony, of course, is that I thought re-joining the workforce would answer this question, not perpetuate it.
Joining an organization or holding a title, I quickly learned, does not mean that your purpose or your goals instantly become clear. A job does not define a person. A person defines a job.
I rocked my red pumps (the female equivalent of a power tie), my pencil skirt, and my perfectly pressed white shirt. I greeted everyone who came within a first down marker of me. I said the right things during my meetings and introduced myself to the right people during my down time.
Perhaps this getting back to work thing would be not as difficult as I imagined.
This perspective changed quickly, though, towards the end of my second day when I was hit with the question. Yep, the question.
“We were wondering,” the most vocal member of a group of women who were getting ready to call it a day said to me, “What do you actually do?”
There were many things that I was hoping to hear from this group of women. “We are glad to have you on board.” “We are excited to have your skills on our team.” “We cannot wait to work with you further.” These all would have fit the bill.
“What do you actually do?” does not have quite the same ring to it. The irony, of course, is that I thought re-joining the workforce would answer this question, not perpetuate it.
Joining an organization or holding a title, I quickly learned, does not mean that your purpose or your goals instantly become clear. A job does not define a person. A person defines a job.
As many of us begin new jobs or begin second careers, it is important not to lose sight of this key difference. If you do not know what you actually do (or what you actually want to do), that is okay, and you are certainly not alone. Keep on doing something. And, even more importantly, keep on contemplating the question of what you want to do until you come up with something good.
The question the women posed to me is a fair one – what do you actually do?
And, I answered as truthfully as possible. “To be honest,” I said, “I am still trying to figure that out.”
The question the women posed to me is a fair one – what do you actually do?
And, I answered as truthfully as possible. “To be honest,” I said, “I am still trying to figure that out.”
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Just Ten More Minutes, Please
Why are people so quick to equate success with waking up early?
Consider the fact that those who work late into the night should reach their goals before early risers even knock the alarms off their bedside tables. Does this make you think about the early bird in a different way?
Consider the fact that those who work late into the night should reach their goals before early risers even knock the alarms off their bedside tables. Does this make you think about the early bird in a different way?
As you may have guessed, I am a night person. I can work and innovate and create at all hours of the night. Ask me what my name is before 8 am and I will have to “check on that and get back to you.”
Some people are allergic to peanut butter, some to wheat, and some to milk. Me, I am allergic to morning. Since peanut butter is banned from school cafeterias to protect those with a sensitivity to JIF and wheat free products are made to ensure the health of those who react poorly to gluten, why can’t similar concessions be made so that I do not suffer through my attempts to wake up before the sun rises?
How, in the working world, is my allergy to the morning being considered?
As I move back into the office-based working world, dealing with my allergy to morning has been one of my biggest challenges. And my very biased observational research indicates that I am not alone in my disdain for those early hours.
People I pass on my walk to work have tears in their eyes and it seems likely that something more than the blustering wind is behind their unhappiness. People I enter my building alongside have looks of despair on their faces and I have to believe that something more than the few-too-many drinks imbibed the night before is at play.
This is definitely one of those “generational differences” people talk so much about. Twenty-somethings were not raised to think of nine-to-five jobs as the path to success. And, as organizations look to re-engage employees in a post recession economy, it seems the twenty-something concept of a flexible work schedule needs to be considered more seriously.
Not only do flexible work schedules serve as a perk at no financial cost to organizations, but these schedules also allow people to work when they are at their best.
If the goal at any organization is to do just that - to get people to do their best work - does it matter where the big and little hands are pointing when this work is being done?
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