Rock Chalk Jayhawk

I met a friend for dinner last week. He was fall-out-of-his chair excited to tell me about the alumni event he had attended.

I met a friend for coffee last week. She was fixed-firmly-in-her-chair less-than-excited to tell me about the new job she had started.

I heard all about my friend’s old roommates - their bonding over orientation, their sharing of bunk beds, and their reliance on the dining hall's honey mustard.

My friend did not have an orientation process. She had no one to show her the ropes and felt a bit lost in her new environment.

He had professors who mentored and nurtured his abilities. One professor showed such a personal interest that he took many more classes with the professor and ended up majoring in the subject.

My friend’s boss was not clear about his expectations and did not seem to care much whether my friend would be successful at the organization. There was always someone else who could come in and do the job if she did not succeed.

Throughout dinner, my friend talked incessantly about his love for his alma mater, about the great work the school does for its students academically and socially, and about how anyone given the opportunity to attend should not think twice before accepting the offer. He wears sweatshirts and hats with the schools insignia (a bit too often if you ask me). He is, without realizing it, a walking endorsement for the college.

My friend has talked with me, and other friends, about how she has not enjoyed her time at her new organization. She suggests others should think twice before joining a similar type of organization. She is, without realizing it, a walking negative advertisement for the organization.

While considering my two friends experiences in parallel, it occurred to me that what colleges and universities do so well is exactly what so few organizations do well.

Colleges and universities work to develop and grow a positive rapport with its students from the first day of orientation through the first request for alumni donations. The result is a group of individuals who are passionate about their alma mater and who are eager to help make it the best.

Organizations work under the assumption that if an orientation is not in place, no harm will be done. If a new employee does not have a mentor, no major damage will result. What organizations are missing is that not doing harm and not causing damage are not the same as getting the most from people.

My friend proudly wears his college sweatshirt and will do anything possible to ensure his alma mater remains one of the finest institutions around.

My friend leaves at 4:59, to exit promptly at 5:00, and is sure that there must be a better organization around.

Post Valentine’s Day Fallout

Whether or not you consider yourself a “believer” in Valentine’s Day, the fallout from the holiday is hitting you about now.

(As a side note, I heard more people declare that they do not believe in Valentine’s Day this year than I ever remember hearing in past years. How can you not believe in a holiday that promotes love, but you can believe in Santa delivering gifts, the tooth fairy giving money, and Snookie offering up a comparison against which we all feel better about ourselves?)

Your planning, or lack thereof, has landed you in one of two categories. You are either a great (for the planners), or a less-than-great (for the non-planners) boyfriend / husband / partner / friend / son / daughter.

Whether or not we want to admit it, a great deal of significance is placed on one day. One day.

If you planned ahead and sent the card, made the phone call, and/or bought the flowers, you can refer to this display of thoughtfulness throughout the year. It is a crisp $100 dollar bill deposited into the bank of good will, able to be withdrawn at any point.

If you did not think it was a big deal, if the card still sits on your night stand, or if you forgot the holiday altogether, it is tough to bounce back from the oversight.

The same type of pressure seems to be placed on employees these days. Organizations want people to prove themselves quickly and to showcase their ability to deposit money into the bank, on behalf of the organization, at an even greater speed.

This need for immediate results makes sense. Times are tough and only the strong survive.

However, if you were to base your choice of a husband, boyfriend, or partner, your choice of a best friend, or, for those parents out there, your choice of a favorite child on the actions of one day, it seems likely that a poor decision could result.

Yes, each day is important, but it is a combination of days that creates a lasting impact. It is weeks and months of sustained effort that leads to success.

The flowers die and the cards gets tossed. You certainly do not want to be left, twiddling your thumbs, waiting around until the next Valentine’s Day for something great.

Similarly, organizations need to find the time, the patience, and the energy to look beyond one day or one week in order to consider people's long term value. Yes, making a sale, creating a paper, or giving a memorable presentation shortly after joining an organization is great.

However, there are 364 other days that both organizations and individuals need to consider when determining whether a person can be a valuable addition to a company or a life.

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.

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.

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.”

Even A Stopped Clock Is Right Twice A Day

Last week my watch stopped. Annoying, I know.


I immediately thought of how even a stopped clock, despite its malfunctioning, is right twice a day. Since that day I have thought about this proverb more often than is, to be honest, necessary.


The irony of the stopped clock should not prevent me from thinking about more important things, such as health care reform and Don and Betty Draper's imminent divorce. I cannot get the stopped clock out of my head, though, because it occurs to me that the stopped clock has been “right” more often than I have in the past two weeks.


Talk about a shot to the ego.


Beyond the “non-working” label, I challenge you to find other similarities I share with the inanimate object. I can tell you that one key difference is that, unlike a stopped clock, my batteries are fully charged and ready to take on a new challenge.


Therefore, it seems that I would be “right” at least as often as chance alone would predict. Right?


I am no longer so sure, because in recent weeks I have been told that I am anything but right. I have been told that I have (brace yourself): too much experience, too little experience, too much academic, but not enough applied, experience, and good experience, but not the type required for this position. I have been told that I am (ready?) overqualified, under-qualified, sort-of qualified, and not quite qualified. Finally, I have been told that I would be (here it goes) bored on a job, overwhelmed by a job, and maybe/possibly bored on a job sometimes, but not necessarily, and maybe only slightly overwhelmed a few times a week, but not definitely.


Is it possible that I am less likely than a stopped clock to be at the right place, at the right time (no pun intended), with the right skill set?


Since I refuse to believe that a stopped clock sits just above me in the hiring food chain, I have moved to considering other explanations for why my skills and experiences so infrequently match up with what is being asked of job candidates.


I believe a big piece of the challenge I face is that, like most members of my generation, I have experiences that cannot neatly be tied together with a bright red bow. My experiences are diverse. My story is a bit messy.


In combination, my experiences carve out a career that does not match the expectations many human resources representatives and hiring executives have for a career. I have worked across industries, I have written on topics ranging from the cognitions of competitive golfers to the benefits of networking at your local bar, and I have mentored athletes, research teams, executives, and undergraduate students. I have also scooped ice cream.


I find myself with a resume that, I have been told, is tough to match. It seems this is proving to be true, as my resume does not match anyone's hiring criteria.


I believe a shift in how organizations think about job candidates may be needed. Current in-the-box job profiles mean that many qualified people with out-of-the-box experiences will never be considered.


Generational differences may be partly to blame. Consider that Boomers are more likely to be interviewing for jobs while Generation Y candidates are more likely be seeking jobs. Boomers, known for long careers, a focus in one industry, and a lifetime spent in the same organization, seem to be the oil to Generation Y's water.


Perhaps it is time to rethink the need for 10 years of experience to fill a particular position. Perhaps it is time to realize that people, across generations, are making mid-life career changes and that these changes make industry experience difficult to come by. Perhaps organizations need to recognize that a masters degree plus 10 years of experience means that no candidates under the age of 40 will even make it through the initial screening process.


A stopped clock is right twice a day.


I used to believe that I would be the right fit for a job at least this often. However, if strict guidelines regarding experience, education, and skill sets remain the main criteria for selection, I think I may not even be as lucky as a stopped clock.


Less lucky than a stopped clock. With these odds I am thinking a trip to Vegas is not in my near future. Nor, it seems, necessarily is an ideal job.

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.)

Breaking-Up Is Hard to Do

It hurts to be dumped.

No matter if the message is delivered via e-mail, text, tweet, or post-it, and no matter how right the dumper was to make his or her decision, the news brings with it feelings of inadequacy and resentment. The dumpee is left to consider why the time, effort, and energy put into the relationship were not enough to make it work.

Here is the million dollar question - would you go back?

I ask because I find myself in this predicament. I was recently dumped - by an organization.

Sure, it was an organization and not a man that dumped me, but everything seems very much the same. I was told in an uncomfortable conversation that it was not my performance, my professionalism, or my effort that led to the separation. No, the decision to cut my position was simply a business matter. In other words, it was them and not me.

Ouch.

I now find myself in my twenties, well-educated, professional, and, oh yah, laid off.

For those of you who have experienced a lay off or have a friend who has been affected by organizational cuts, have these changes made you think differently about the organizations and/or the industries in which these former positions reside?

My current job search has forced me to consider what I really want to do and who I really want to do it for. In my best case scenario, I hope to find a challenging and enjoyable position within the field in which I was most recently employed. However, I have moments when I think that being dumped once may be enough for me and it may be time to locate those other fish I have heard are swimming around the sea.

I wonder what you think - has the way you were treated, or have seen others treated, affected the direction of your career? In spite of my understanding that critical business decisions need to be made, and that these decisions are rarely personal, it is impossible to remove human emotions from the equation. As I look for my next opportunity, I am forced to ask myself if I would have the humility to return to the person (job / industry) who dumped me.

Maybe this feeling will pass. It was, after all, them and not me. Right?

The Road Did Not Diverge, It Splintered

You have likely heard how two roads diverged in the woods and, according to Frost, choosing the one less traveled made all the difference. I think I will be the first to tell you that this poem has started to irritate me.

How, you may be thinking, can a classic piece of literature have become more grating than the omnipresent discussion about Kanye West’s mental health? I am on edge because as I try to make a decision regarding the road to take in my own career (and life), I feel less like the road has neatly forked and more as if it has splintered. Not only can I choose the more or less traveled path, but I can also cut through the woods, swim across the river, kayak downstream, or helicopter out of the area altogether.

Which is the right path for me? I am having an increasingly difficult time making this decision and it is not a lack of motivation, a lack of ability, or a lack of interest that is contributing to my uncertainty. I have done well in each stop I have made thus far in my career – count them off with me- in coaching, academia, business, and consulting. Each stop has been accompanied by a unique set of positives and an assortment of challenges. And yet none has been my tall, skim, vanilla latte, extra hot - i.e., the perfect fit for me.

Perhaps it is unrealistic to believe that a perfect job does exist. However, I have been brainwashed to believe there must be something out there for me. There must be a position that will allow me to work to my potential, challenge my mind, and create worthwhile outcomes.

As I look around and contemplate my next step, I am confronted in magazines and on television with examples of people in their twenties who have made it big, doing what they love, and loving what they do. I have to believe I am not alone, though, in being part of the other group – part of the group that continues to look for answers.

If you have come to a fork in the road and are having a tough time choosing a path, I would love to hear from you. If nothing else, we can flip a coin together. Best out of 5 wins. Do you think I would leave a decision this important to just one flip?