Susan Boyle, My Professional Role Model

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.

Debbie Downer Celebrates Halloween

What is it with people and Halloween? Not to be Debbie Downer (only people who are about to be Debbie Downer say this…), but I think I am going to pass on celebrating this year.

Yep, I am the one person not looking forward to the holiday that has long padded the pockets of Brach’s employees, the candy corn people, and dentists, the cavity filling folks, everywhere.

You are welcome to try to change my mind about the holiday. I warn you, though, that I am a tough sell.

Describing the Kate Gosselin backwards mullet wig you can’t wait to wear or sharing your idea for a Balloon Boy costume will not drive me to grab the nearest Ed Hardy shirt and join you dressed as Jon.

I guess I am just not sure why everyone is so eager to be someone else. (I know, I am being Debbie Downer, in spite of my promise above). It seems to me that, both in determining a career and carving out a life, people have enough trouble being themselves by acknowledging their positive qualities and copping up to the challenges they face. Why do we need a day to celebrate these disguises?

Here is an idea, instead of dressing up, what about making Halloween a day during which the layers people often hide behind are removed. Make it a day when people expose their good and bad, a day when those less visible characteristics that are often tucked away just beneath the surface are on full display.

For instance, during a number of interviews I have scheduled in the coming weeks, I will dutifully sit in front of HR executives and hiring staff and tell them what they want to hear – how their organization is a perfect fit and how I am certain this is the opportunity that will further my career. However, wouldn’t it be great if, for one day, I could take off the mask that hides my uncertainty and confusion? If I was able to say to those executives that I do not know exactly what I want to do, but I do know that I am capable of doing nearly anything, including this job, and I am hoping this is the position that will challenge me and give me a sense of personal satisfaction. I hope this is it – that I will want to come here, stay here, and be here for the next 5-10 years.

Now there is a hard sell.

We all tend to display the qualities that we believe others want to see. However, to some extent, we are all a bundle of inconsistencies and contradictions. We are stubborn, yet easygoing. We are impatient, yet good under pressure. We are confident, yet insecure. We are strong in our convictions, yet impressionable.

The good stuff - the confidence, the poise, the strong convictions – those are the easy things to show off to the world. But the other parts – the uncertainties, the doubts, the worries - these are the more difficult pieces to acknowledge. Yet only by embracing both sides of our personality can we understand ourselves and consider what career or path through life makes the most sense for our whole self.

That said, maybe I am being Debbie Downer. Maybe Halloween is the occasion to don a mask and to, for one day, forget about trying to figure it out.

Bring on the miniature Hershey bars, Snickers, and Twix. I can already feel the cavities beginning to form.

Doing Good Vs. Doing Well

I am positive that over the past week I have done some good. Have I done well? That is up for debate.

Let’s start with the easy part. What makes me so sure that I have done some good?

The first piece of evidence is a response I received to one particular blog posting. You see, it is difficult to gauge just how many people read the blog posts I send out multiple times a week. Sometimes it seems that my parents may be the only ones reading every word and even then only on the days when my mother’s discomfort with Facebook (where I post links to my blog) does not get the best of her.

It was the best kind of surprise, then, when a friend I do not talk with as much as I should, and did not even realize was a follower of my blog, jotted me a note saying that one particular blog entry helped him get through a frustrating day at work (see Cisco-The-Kid and Me, October 8, 2009).

This type of response is why I write the blog – I aim to share my frustrations, realizations, and ideas with others who are in a boat that looks awfully similar to the one I am attempting to sail (or attempting not to sink - depending on how you look at it). My hope is that sharing my ideas can help readers think about their own lives and their own careers in a slightly different way than they did before reading.

To receive confirmation that the blog had served its intended purpose, even for just one person on one day, was enough to validate my efforts. I had done good.

The second piece of evidence is the time I spent volunteering with a non-profit organization called Acing Autism that provides tennis clinics to children with autism. A friend introduced me to the program that he started with his wife, and upon seeing the athletes in action this past weekend, I am certain that there is no better use of my time. Again, I had done good.

There you have it – I blogged in a way that lessened the frustration of a peer and I helped children, who may not otherwise have had the opportunity, to feel what it is like to swing a racket. Even the most skeptical of people would have to admit that I had done good.

Then, at about the time my mother asked, “Are either of these money-making activities?” it hit me. My doing good seems to have come at the cost of my doing well. That is, as my blogging and volunteering flourished, my formal career remained in a bit of a holding pattern with no exciting job prospects in sight.

The question that jumped at me, when confronted with these two pieces of incongruent information, is whether it is possible to do good and to do well.

Does any job or career provide a person with the chance to promote the needs of others while, at the same time, providing him or her the opportunity to receive promotions that include the corner office?

And, if both outcomes cannot be met, is it more important to do good or to do well?

I certainly do not have the answer to this one. Even if I did, I don't think I would share it with the masses. I have done my share of good for this week. It's your turn.


For those interested, further information about Aceing Autism can be found at the following site: http://www.aceingautism.com/.

I am also accepting all donations. (Kidding...sort of)

Forget Monster, Hit the Bar

I am looking for a new job. Is anyone else?

Whether you have been laid off, are beginning to look, want to test the waters, or would rather be doing anything else than your current work, an obvious place to start a job search is on Monster.

I have taken this step. Not only is my resume posted on the site, but I also wake up each morning, open my e-mail, and, over a cup of coffee, review the job matches Monster has compiled just for me. (For those keeping score, the number of jobs Monster has sent me: well over 5,000, the number of positions that were actually a good match: five, the amount of success I have had: zero, the feeling I get on some mornings, after reviewing frustrating and nonsensical matches, that I want to throw my computer out my apartment window: priceless.)

While no promising leads have transpired, I continue to log onto the site daily. On days during which I feel as if I am making little-to-no progress, however, my frustration can reach Homeland Security orange level.

After one such day I decided to set aside my job concerns and meet some friends for a drink. And then it happened - over two glasses of sauvignon blanc I made more meaningful job connections than I had in over 5,000 Monster postings. I felt a bit like I had cheated on Monster.

Why was I so successful? Over the bustling of the crowded bar, I was able to explain why I am passionate about human motivation and performance. I was able to share my enthusiasm and describe my previous work experiences. And, I was able to enjoy a good glass of wine. Unless my memory is failing me, I do not believe Monster has ever ponied up to the bar and offered to buy the next round.

As Gen Y’ers, we have many experiences to share, many interests to describe, and many passions to reveal. These experiences, interests, and passions often do not translate well on paper.

A list of presentations and publications does not describe the feeling of accomplishment I experienced after presenting at my first major conference, or the immense pride I had when a tennis player I coached overcame her self-doubt and self-imposed limits to be successful, or the look of appreciation on the faces of those friends and colleagues I have come across who have read my blog and feel a sense of connection to my ideas.

The world has become a tangled web of tweets and status updates. While these tools are useful, I still believe there is no substitute for going out, looking someone in the eye, and telling them what you love to do.

As for my job search, like a dutiful partner I went back to Monster the next morning and I continue to review my job matches daily. That said, I am pretty sure I will cheat again next week. Anyone up for a drink?

Cisco-The-Kid and Me

For those traumatized by the ending of the movie Marley and Me, I can assure you that no horses were harmed in the making of this blog. As for me, I incurred only minor bumps and bruises.

During a trip this past weekend to Vermont to take a hike, to see some foliage, and to get away from the general running-to-get-nowhere pace of city life, my mother and I decided to give horseback riding a try. I made reservations for two at Gentle Giants (This is really the name of the stable. If the stable had been called Ruthless Beasts, I would have thought twice about the adventure, but with a name like Gentle Giants…)

Upon arriving at the stable, we met our guide. A rugged man in his sixties, he assured me that he had been taking beginners out on these trails for over twenty years. More importantly, he seemed to say he brought them all back as well.

I became mildly concerned when the guide informed me that he had handpicked Suzy Q, the oldest and calmest horse in the stable, for my mother. Who did that leave for me?

My question was answered when Cisco-the-kid, a grayish-black horse with a flowing mane, came prancing out of his stall. I quickly attempted to befriend the animal. It felt like I was in the early stages of a first date, trying to make some connection with the creature across from me with the hopes that things would go decently well over the course of the next hour.

We started out on the trail, me and Cisco, and the vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds and the sound of the flowing stream made me forget about my concerns. That is, until the guide informed me and my mother that we would be crossing the river at the feet of our horses. It is at this moment that I became aware of Cisco’s dislike for water. And since I prefer not to be dropped in the water, I quickly adopted Cisco’s aversion to streams, rivers, and any other form of minor tributaries.

With a bit of cajoling, Cisco did make it across a number of small bodies of water and things were going smoothly until we reached the last river, the one that separated me and Cisco from our safe return to the stable.

About halfway through the thirty foot crossing, Cisco decided that he had enough. Midstream, with a bed of jagged rocks at my feet and a horse that would rather not continue beneath me, I was in a bit of a jam. I gently applied some pressure to Cisco’s sides, begging him to continue. Cisco’s lack of movement made it clear that he would rather not go on – and so we waited.

Cisco had been working hard for 45 minutes and he wanted a moment to take in the scenery. I loosened the harness so that Cisco could reach the running water. He took a long drink and paused in order to get a good look around.

And then, not thanks to anything I did, Cisco and I were off again, on our way back to the stable.

Despite my initial fear of being tossed in the drink, Cisco was right to take a minute to rest. We move too fast everyday, far too infrequently taking the time to really look around and take in the sites.

If you are in a job or between jobs or considering a job change, day-to-day stress can prevent you from taking a minute to stop, to take a look around, and to take a long drink of water. Meeting deadlines and closing deals are necessary parts of life, but it is the big picture that makes the most important things in life clear. We are all very fortunate, each for our own reasons and each in our own ways. Often, however, the speed of life makes it difficult to find the time to consider, and to give thanks for, our many good fortunes.

Take a minute for yourself today. Go grab a drink of water. Cisco chose the river as his source of replenishment, but I hear the water cooler works just as well.

The Anti-Julie and Julia

Being a self-proclaimed budding chef (read: trying to move beyond microwaving everything), I was excited when my friend told me about a new cooking website that I had to try.

The site, she explained, allows you to list the ingredients you have on hand and then spits out a recipe that uses only those ingredients. No additional trips to the supermarket required.

I wanted to hear more about this magic site. Could it really turn nothing ingredients into something great?

“For example,” she said, “I had ginger and chicken and yams in my kitchen and I could not think of anything to do with them.”

I was right there in the moment with her, waiting to hear about some elaborate and heretofore unconsidered recipe. “So,” I said, nearly falling off the bench on which we had stopped for a break from our walk with anticipation, “What did you end up making?”

“Oh,” she said, “The site told me to make Ginger Chicken with Yams.”

I did not mean to laugh in her face – but I did. And she laughed as well (thankfully) because she realized how obvious the recipe had been. If Ginger and Chicken and Yams are the ingredients on hand, it does not require outside-the-box culinary genius to think Ginger Chicken with Yams sounds like a good bet.

Maybe careers are this obvious as well. Is it possible that I, like my friend, am making a simple thing like finding a career into something overly difficult?

Perhaps my current approach, in trying to fit my skills into a posted position, is the wrong way of looking at things. Maybe it makes more sense to start by mixing and blending the skills I already have in order to begin to create my perfect job.

Take the things you are good at and combine them. Could it possibly be that easy?

Of course the answer is no – nothing is that easy. However, it does cause you to think differently about how to approach a career or search for a job. What skills or interests do you have that make you unique? What types of positions or general areas of work would allow you to put many of those skills and interests to good use?

As for me and my interests, let’s put this theory to the test. Is anyone looking to hire a sports loving, chocolate eating, movie watching analyst? If so, I think I know the perfect candidate. References available upon request.


In case you are interested, the site is http://www.supercook.com and I do think it can be helpful. Especially for those who have basic cooking skills (i.e., people who are not me).

I Wanna Be, I Wanna Be, I Wanna Be Like Mike

Growing up in the nineties, you may have heard of a guy named Michael Jordan. You know, the basketball player who made long shorts, a bald head, and Nikes must-haves for every basketball toting kid in the world.

While millions of people spent their childhoods aspiring to be like Mike because of the Gatorade commercials, the Air Jordans, or the hangtime, I have a different reason for being envious of the iconic athlete.

I wanna be like Mike (I would also settle for being like Serena or Tom or Tiger – I am not picky) because he made his living in a line of work (i.e., sports) in which goals and measures of success are everywhere.

A basket is made or missed, a serve is in or out, a pass is caught or dropped, a putt is long or short - the goal is clear, the result is immediate, and success or failure is easily determined.

Yesterday I set out for a three mile run. In an amount of time I will not share with this audience (more than 15 minutes and less than an hour), I finished my run and felt good about meeting my goal. I had done something productive and I had bettered myself - in no time at all (well, if I am to be honest, it was a moderate amount of time).

I have left the office after more than one eight hour day only sure of the fact that I had successfully jammed the photocopy machine yet again. A game winning jumper or a 125 mph ace a jammed photocopy machine is not.

If I stand to be corrected and there are those of you who have created short-term goals that have helped you to be successful at your jobs, please pass along some tips. I clearly need the help.

Until then, I will continue to want to be like Mike. Why? In sports, games are played every week, if not everyday, and they are won or lost. I am a few years into my professional career and still have no sense of how to gauge my success. Am I winning? I would like to say yes, but the truth is I am not even sure how to determine the score.

Betty White, Passing On My Left

The missing fifth Golden Girl in spandex shorts is the best way I can describe the person I saw in my periphery vision.

Let me explain. Like many twenty-something’s, I run fairly regularly. I fully admit that, especially on my more lethargic days, the speed of my running could spark a debate as to what defines a “run.”

As an ex-college athlete, though, while my foot speed has steadily declined, my competitive streak has persisted. The desire to win has served me well – in athletics, in the classroom, in business, and in not-so-friendly games of Trivial Pursuit with family and friends. No matter the activity, I do not go down without a fight.

You can understand, then, the combination of surprise and anguish that overwhelmed me when I realized that this older woman had not only caught me from behind, but that she was about to pass me. I am in no way an ageist, but if I saw this woman on the street, I would be more likely to challenge her to a game of mahjong than to a foot race. Here she was, though, pushing me to run faster and even more quickly dispelling the ideas I had about her lack of athletic prowess.

After my run I got to thinking about how I would have never known about this woman’s ability had she not, literally, run into me. How many people she deals with everyday, who may never see her run, are unaware of her ability?

Similarly, how many of us do not display our full set of abilities within our current jobs? How much more could we be doing, that we are not, because our jobs do not require us, or because others expectations limit us, or simply because our own insecurities hold us back?

From writing, to customer service, to marketing, to technology, to networking, to building client relationships, what potentially lesser known skills do you have that you are currently not utilizing in your job? More importantly, why are you holding back?

It does not matter if your business card says Vice President, Assistant to the Vice President, or Mailroom Guy, you can make the most of all of your skills and abilities. After all, if you do not, who will?

A Betty White look-a-like passed me during a recent jog. I am glad she did, though, because I know she is using every ounce of her ability and that is commendable. I am also okay with it because I am pretty sure that I have her number in mahjong.

Now, I Only Sort-Of Dislike Dentists

Until yesterday, I strongly disliked dentists - a real lot.

The smell of the office, the picking and prodding that accompanies every visit, finding the most appropriate sort-of truthful answer to the question, "do you floss every day?" - I did not like dentists.

Then I showed up for my annual cleaning and met a hygienist who loves her work. She changed my mind about dentists. Now, I only sort-of dislike them. A real lot.

My new hygienist was gentle with my gums and my nerves, she answered my questions completely and thoughtfully, and her interest in dentistry was obvious.

While she jammed a variety of sharp objects into my mouth, she happily threw out tooth trivia (Who was the first person to use teeth as a means of identifying a person? The answer is at the bottom of the blog. I do not want to ruin it for those of you who take trivia at seriously as I do). She brought over a mirror to point out the gum tissue that needs to stay healthy for my smile to remain intact. She even positively reinforced my brushing behavior by saying that I had done a fairly good job and should keep up the good work. (I was secretly hoping for a sticker or a gold star, but apparently being twenty-something precludes you from rewards that are shiny and/or colorful. Why is that?)

Throughout the cleaning, my hygienist displayed all of her meticulously cared for teeth. Her smile had nothing to do with a dental exam, though. Her smile was wide because people smile when they love what they are doing.

“Nothing is so contagious as enthusiasm.” Samuel Taylor Coleridge said this and was referring to something slightly different than the flair in the movie Office Space. Coleridge was referring to real heartfelt enthusiasm – the kind that no amount of flair can adequately represent.

One trip to the dentist with one enthusiastic hygienist made me think differently about an entire group of dental workers. I can now say that I only sort-of dislike dentists - a real lot.

Imagine the positive impact that could result from each of us finding the thing we were meant to do and bringing the same type of enthusiasm to that job everyday.

Now that I only sort-of dislike dentists, does anyone know a parking meter attendant who really loves his work?

(The reason you bothered to read this far. The answer: Paul Revere. At least according to my hygieniest.)