When I was dating, I realized that everyone looked for maybe ten things in a partner. You find someone who has seven of them, and after a while, the missing three start looking really important. So, you lose Mr. or Ms. Seven and find a Five. A Five with two of the three factors that the Seven didn't have. Eventually, you figure this one out and decide what are the most important things on your list. You stick with your Seven or Eight and don't obsess about the two things that might be missing. Or, if you have found yourself with a Four, maybe you decide to cut your losses and look for a Seven, unless those four are of such overwhelming importance that you can live without the other six.
This is a lot like career change. Career change is full of tradeoffs. When I was a museum director, I was passionately devoted to my work. I worked all the time-- sixty, seventy, eighty hours a week. There were years in a row-- decades-- when I never took all my vacation. I took two weeks off only once in twenty years, and that was for my honeymoon.
People go to museums on weekends and holidays, so I worked weekends and holidays. That's what museum people do. My husband's family, which I adore, gathers every Thanksgiving weekend so I traded Christmas Week for Thanksgiving Weekend. For years and years, I worked the day after Christmas. The week after Christmas. I worked New Year's Eve, 1999 until 1 a.m. The museum had opened a couple of months before, it was a new center of community in the downtown and it was important that we provide a place for people to celebrate the transition to the new millennium. I went to galas almost every weekend. It was part of the job.
I don't work in a museum any more. There's a lot I miss about museum work: I don't work with the public. I don't have the enormous joy of seeing people enjoy something I created. I don't see art every day.
But my life is my own in a way it has not been for decades. Sure, one or two things a week keep me at work in the evenings. Big deal. I've been living like this for as long as I remember. Now, I go to a couple of fundraisers a year, not one or two a week. The work I do is important; it makes a difference. This is one of the most important items on my list of ten. But it doesn't require every flicker of creativity I have. It leaves me the energy to do other things. I've wanted to write for years. Now, I can. In fact, now I do.
Showing posts with label career change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label career change. Show all posts
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Do I know you?
When you start out, no one notices when you go to an event. Then, you develop enough of an identity that people notice if you're there. "I saw you at that (reception, opening, performance, business card exchange) last night." People know your name when you introduce yourself even if they haven't met you before.
Then, people notice when you're NOT there. "We missed you at the (reception, opening, performance, business card exchange) last night." At that point, your life is no longer your own.
Then, something changes. Perhaps you change careers. Perhaps you move to a new community. After years of being recognized when you walk into a room, you're back at the beginning. No one notices you. No one knows your name.
This is somewhat liberating. You can decide whether or not to go to the event, whatever it is. You can build a new identity. You have to.
I walked away from a career (career # 5) in which I had invested 25 years, a career in which I was someone. Speaker at national conferences, author of articles, board member of the national professional organization. A couple of years later, I was having lunch with someone from the next phase of my life. Career # 6. I told him that it was new and different for me to walk into a room and have no one know who I am. That is was probably good for me spiritually to be no one when I was used to being somebody. He said, "Don't sell yourself short. Anyone who meets you can see that you are someone."
Then, people notice when you're NOT there. "We missed you at the (reception, opening, performance, business card exchange) last night." At that point, your life is no longer your own.
Then, something changes. Perhaps you change careers. Perhaps you move to a new community. After years of being recognized when you walk into a room, you're back at the beginning. No one notices you. No one knows your name.
This is somewhat liberating. You can decide whether or not to go to the event, whatever it is. You can build a new identity. You have to.
I walked away from a career (career # 5) in which I had invested 25 years, a career in which I was someone. Speaker at national conferences, author of articles, board member of the national professional organization. A couple of years later, I was having lunch with someone from the next phase of my life. Career # 6. I told him that it was new and different for me to walk into a room and have no one know who I am. That is was probably good for me spiritually to be no one when I was used to being somebody. He said, "Don't sell yourself short. Anyone who meets you can see that you are someone."
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Introduction to Reinvention
Once upon a time, decisions stayed made. People decided what they wanted to do with their lives, and that's what they did. Maybe they were happy. maybe not. But once they set foot on a path, they stayed on it.
Now, not so much. We're restless. We change jobs, change careers, a lot of us move every couple of years.
We reinvent ourselves.
Now, not so much. We're restless. We change jobs, change careers, a lot of us move every couple of years.
We reinvent ourselves.
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