Six years ago, I was in the thick of orienting myself to an altogether new professional vision -- one which hadn't yet come into focus.
I had spent the years since college graduation pursuing a career in acting. While it had proven to be exciting and personally rewarding, it interfered with my abilities to fulfill important needs and pursue vital interests. In other words, while I loved acting, I recognized I wasn't suited to a long-term, professional commitment to it.
I had spent the years since college graduation pursuing a career in acting. While it had proven to be exciting and personally rewarding, it interfered with my abilities to fulfill important needs and pursue vital interests. In other words, while I loved acting, I recognized I wasn't suited to a long-term, professional commitment to it.
It was a difficult thing to realize, because I had invested so much time, effort, and heart in the craft of acting. Many moments of doubt followed my decision to change course, and the ensuing period of professional uncertainty was, frankly, extremely frightening. After all, we're taught to identify closely with our work, and since I wasn't sure which professional direction to take, I felt rudderless on a personal level, too.
Fortunately, life provided me with opportunities -- although I initially didn't recognize them as such.
I had done a considerable amount of temporary work throughout my first few years living in New York City, and as it turned out, one of the organizations for which I had worked had a position open up at nearly the same time I decided to re-orient myself professionally. I applied for the position, proceeded through the interview process, and was hired.
I won't recount my three years with that organization in detail, but I do wish to note that, in retrospect, it represented a fascinating parallel process.
In one regard, I remained very uncertain about my professional direction throughout much of my tenure there. As such, I did quite a bit of soul-searching. I pondered a number of big questions, such as, "What are you interested in doing? What can you imagine yourself doing, day in, day out? What about your job do you like? What don't you like? What kind of lifestyle do you want to live?" Other questions were, "What makes you come alive? What can you do to share that with people, to help people, and to provide value for people?"
It was a slow Q&A process around some very profound issues, and I wish I could say I had been more patient with it. As it was, it felt very frustrating at the time -- it was the proverbial "grind."
It was a slow Q&A process around some very profound issues, and I wish I could say I had been more patient with it. As it was, it felt very frustrating at the time -- it was the proverbial "grind."
However, in another respect, I was gaining fantastic professional experience -- although I (again) didn't fully recognize or appreciate it at the time. Among other things, I learned:
-the written and unwritten rules of professional conduct and workplace culture
-the importance of developing product and process expertise
-the power of trust: doing what I say I'm going to do
-how to appropriately set expectations
-my success is in direct proportion to the quality of my relationships; and the quality of my relationships is in direct proportion to the ownership I take of, and attention I give to, them
-to have the courage to self-advocate, to be authentically myself, and to be honest
-to maintain relationships with former co-workers and supervisors (i.e., network)
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I benefit from hindsight, of course. What amazes me, though, is that the lessons I learned from that experience are applicable to any professional field, any professional pursuit. They worked for me in grad school; they worked for me in my first post grad school job; and they work for me now in my consulting work, and in the work I'm putting into having my first book published.
For me, though, the real takeaway -- the meta-lesson, if you will -- is the power of coupling persistence with open-mindedness. Why? Because we are fallible. Our perceptions are limited. Sometimes, our conclusions are flawed. Sometimes, we dismiss opportunity when it presents itself because it does not fit our vision of how we thought it would look.
Our tasks are to relax our vision, practice flexibility of thought and perspective, and, ultimately, recognize that opportunity abounds.
I was confused and frustrated by my lack of what I considered a "defined" career path, but I refused to stop searching -- and I trusted there was real value in everything I did, even if I couldn't identify it at the time, and that it would inform my future endeavors.
So here I am.
Would I prefer that certain aspects of my career were "locked in" more specifically than they are at the moment? Do I want to be further along than I am right now? Yes, absolutely. But I've become more comfortable with uncertainty, and I think that's important. Uncertainty is a constant condition of life, for one, so there's no use fighting it, at least not on a wholesale level. And, what's more, it reminds me to keep an open mind about the events of my life -- because otherwise, I might wind up dismissing an important opportunity.
-the written and unwritten rules of professional conduct and workplace culture
-the importance of developing product and process expertise
-the power of trust: doing what I say I'm going to do
-how to appropriately set expectations
-my success is in direct proportion to the quality of my relationships; and the quality of my relationships is in direct proportion to the ownership I take of, and attention I give to, them
-to have the courage to self-advocate, to be authentically myself, and to be honest
-to maintain relationships with former co-workers and supervisors (i.e., network)
************************************************************************
I benefit from hindsight, of course. What amazes me, though, is that the lessons I learned from that experience are applicable to any professional field, any professional pursuit. They worked for me in grad school; they worked for me in my first post grad school job; and they work for me now in my consulting work, and in the work I'm putting into having my first book published.
For me, though, the real takeaway -- the meta-lesson, if you will -- is the power of coupling persistence with open-mindedness. Why? Because we are fallible. Our perceptions are limited. Sometimes, our conclusions are flawed. Sometimes, we dismiss opportunity when it presents itself because it does not fit our vision of how we thought it would look.
Our tasks are to relax our vision, practice flexibility of thought and perspective, and, ultimately, recognize that opportunity abounds.
I was confused and frustrated by my lack of what I considered a "defined" career path, but I refused to stop searching -- and I trusted there was real value in everything I did, even if I couldn't identify it at the time, and that it would inform my future endeavors.
So here I am.
Would I prefer that certain aspects of my career were "locked in" more specifically than they are at the moment? Do I want to be further along than I am right now? Yes, absolutely. But I've become more comfortable with uncertainty, and I think that's important. Uncertainty is a constant condition of life, for one, so there's no use fighting it, at least not on a wholesale level. And, what's more, it reminds me to keep an open mind about the events of my life -- because otherwise, I might wind up dismissing an important opportunity.
