For those who actually follow this blog, I apologize for what has become my annual summer recess. It's not intended; events always seem to sweep me along in the summer. And it is my intention to return -- soon.
But for now, I cede this space to one of my favorite coach, Jill Geisler of the Poynter Institute. As part of her must-read series on "What Great Bosses Know," she talks about the challenges and potential satisfactions of changing the culture of an organization in need of transition.
Enjoy! I'll be back soon.
Jill Geisler on "SuperVision:
Showing posts with label transition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label transition. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Making Connection
Since the beginning of the year, I've had the privilege of coaching groups of workers in transition. Most are journalists, many have been laid off, all wonder about their employment future in these turbulent economic times.
These days, everyone has heard the post-layoff cardinal rule of job hunting: network, network, network. Tell everyone you know that you're looking. Reach out to people you know well, and those you barely know at all. Email your entire address book.
Online social networks now are playing a more visible role in the job search process. Facebook, Linkedin and Twitter all have applications and subgroups that target people looking find employment or new opportunities.
At the same time, online job listings rule the lives of many job seekers. They plan their days around perusing mega sites like monster.com or careerbuilder.com, the huge database of federal openings on usajobs.gov. They may move on to the opportunities posted by Internet sites like Yahoo and AOL, and then devote time to Craigslist and more traditional newspaper online classifieds. Hours each day in front of a computer screen, reading ads and mentally trying on each position for a possible fit.
With all these new electronic options, you'd think the job of finding a job would be easier. That's not what I'm hearing. People are weary, isolated and dispirited.
Be honest: how healthy can it be -- physically or mentally -- to spend hours in front of a computer screen scrolling through endless descriptions of the perfect employee? Measuring yourself against hundreds of Human Resources fantasies?
And here's a little secret: there can be a certain kind of seductiveness to the antiseptic nature of the electronic job search. You can avoid retelling the story of your joblessness, and whatever feelings of hurt, anger, rejection and shame that you may have attached to it.
There's a sense of safety alone on your side of the computer screen.
Here's what I know: the most powerful job contacts are based on relationships. And relationships require care and maintenance, where over coffee, over the phone or over the Internet.
That means doing more than sending a mass email blast to let people know you're looking for work. It may mean reaching out to people with whom you share some real connection or interest. The guy you used to talk to in the break room at your old job. The soprano who stands behind you in the church choir. The sympathetic soccer dad who encourages your kid despite his dribbling challenges. The former classmate who you helped get through Econ 101. The customer you helped with a new product. The community leader who got a fair break from you during a time of controversy.
These are the people who know you and can vouch for you. They can be more powerful than any anonymous online job posting.
Online, connections can be enhanced posting a comment about a link posted on someone's Facebook page. Or joining the discussion with members of a shared interest group on Linkedin. Or responding to an intriguing tweet.
The main thing to remember is that connection is a two-way street. Reaching out also means asking about the other person -- their lives, their hopes, their challenges.
Sometimes, it's not all about you.
Connection has benefits beyond the job search. It reminds us of that we're all in this together, that everyone has challenges, that a getting a job is a means to achieve certain goals -- not the goal itself.
Connection provides perspective. And in these chaotic times, perspective is invaluable.
These days, everyone has heard the post-layoff cardinal rule of job hunting: network, network, network. Tell everyone you know that you're looking. Reach out to people you know well, and those you barely know at all. Email your entire address book.
Online social networks now are playing a more visible role in the job search process. Facebook, Linkedin and Twitter all have applications and subgroups that target people looking find employment or new opportunities.
At the same time, online job listings rule the lives of many job seekers. They plan their days around perusing mega sites like monster.com or careerbuilder.com, the huge database of federal openings on usajobs.gov. They may move on to the opportunities posted by Internet sites like Yahoo and AOL, and then devote time to Craigslist and more traditional newspaper online classifieds. Hours each day in front of a computer screen, reading ads and mentally trying on each position for a possible fit.
With all these new electronic options, you'd think the job of finding a job would be easier. That's not what I'm hearing. People are weary, isolated and dispirited.
Be honest: how healthy can it be -- physically or mentally -- to spend hours in front of a computer screen scrolling through endless descriptions of the perfect employee? Measuring yourself against hundreds of Human Resources fantasies?
And here's a little secret: there can be a certain kind of seductiveness to the antiseptic nature of the electronic job search. You can avoid retelling the story of your joblessness, and whatever feelings of hurt, anger, rejection and shame that you may have attached to it.
There's a sense of safety alone on your side of the computer screen.
Here's what I know: the most powerful job contacts are based on relationships. And relationships require care and maintenance, where over coffee, over the phone or over the Internet.
That means doing more than sending a mass email blast to let people know you're looking for work. It may mean reaching out to people with whom you share some real connection or interest. The guy you used to talk to in the break room at your old job. The soprano who stands behind you in the church choir. The sympathetic soccer dad who encourages your kid despite his dribbling challenges. The former classmate who you helped get through Econ 101. The customer you helped with a new product. The community leader who got a fair break from you during a time of controversy.
These are the people who know you and can vouch for you. They can be more powerful than any anonymous online job posting.
Online, connections can be enhanced posting a comment about a link posted on someone's Facebook page. Or joining the discussion with members of a shared interest group on Linkedin. Or responding to an intriguing tweet.
The main thing to remember is that connection is a two-way street. Reaching out also means asking about the other person -- their lives, their hopes, their challenges.
Sometimes, it's not all about you.
Connection has benefits beyond the job search. It reminds us of that we're all in this together, that everyone has challenges, that a getting a job is a means to achieve certain goals -- not the goal itself.
Connection provides perspective. And in these chaotic times, perspective is invaluable.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Hire A Journalist!
Once again, Jill Geisler from the Poynter Institute for Media Studies hits it out of the park. More evidence of why I keep a link to her column on the left rail of this blog.
Jill lovingly breaks down some of the best qualities of good journalists and why employers should want them. This is an exercise that anyone can do, no matter what their profession or job function. Breaking your work down to its basic components reveals the what you like, what you don't like, what you're good at, what you want to do more. From there you can identify more options, more possibilities.
I know not to mess with perfection. Read Jill's column!
http://www.poynter.org/column.asp?id=34&aid=160112
Jill lovingly breaks down some of the best qualities of good journalists and why employers should want them. This is an exercise that anyone can do, no matter what their profession or job function. Breaking your work down to its basic components reveals the what you like, what you don't like, what you're good at, what you want to do more. From there you can identify more options, more possibilities.
I know not to mess with perfection. Read Jill's column!
http://www.poynter.org/column.asp?id=34&aid=160112
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
To Be Real
Every working person has had that moment where you wonder “What am I doing here?”
In fact, the question usually surfaces hundreds of times during the course of our working lives. Sometimes it’s a nagging thought, sometimes it’s like a stalker and sometimes it reaches critical mass, hitting us upside the head like a ball peen hammer.
The question can be sparked by any number of circumstances, alone or in combination. Like the realization that time has been passing without any career plan or direction. Or it can be one missed promotion too many. Too little growth. Too much responsibility with too few resources. Too many jerks. Too little passion. Too much anxiety. Too little money. Too many signals that the company or the industry is going south.
Payton’s critical “What am I doing here?” moment was triggered by a number of factors. She’d enjoyed a long, successful career in journalism, with many awards to her credit. Her reporting had achieved recognition across her region and beyond. She had earned the respect of the people she covered and the audience she served, with a reputation for fairness.
Yet. The media business continued to be buffeted by the tsunami forces of shrinking audience and revenues, and Payton’s shop was no exception. Her newsroom was being tasked to provide more and more content, with fewer resources. Payton’s specialty – in-depth reporting on disadvantaged communities – was being marginalized. And in an industry that celebrates youth, her years of experience suddenly seemed like a liability.
So when a government executive offered the chance to work on policies affecting the communities she’d come to care about, Payton decided her combination of circumstances practically ordained her choice. She leapt into public service.
Countless journalists have made similar transitions. And even though most people define reporters as impartial and detached, the truth is that most journalists are drawn to the profession by qualities like curiosity and a desire to affect change through their reporting. The best investigative reporters are passionate and dogged in their pursuit of the facts. They couldn’t be effective if they weren’t.
The idea of moving from observer to policy maker can be awfully seductive. And it can take on the patina of fantasy. Because of your direct involvement, you begin to create a vision of success. And better still, that success is within your control, because now you’re on the inside, where decisions are made and things happen.
Unless they don’t. Payton soon began to realize that the legislator’s vision of policy change was far different from her own, in both direction and pace. The access she assumed she’d have turned out to be more assumption than reality. It was hard to tell whether she was observing conflicting government interests, or simply a lack of interest. Within months, she found herself feeling marginalized, ineffective and powerless.
Worst of all, Payton felt inauthentic. As though she had given up a core piece of herself in order to pursue what seemed to be a greater good. Before she knew it, she was right back at critical mass with the question “What am I doing here?”
This story has a happy ending. Because of the way Payton left her reporting job, the door was open when she inquired about her former position. And after discussions with her old boss, the decision to return to the newsroom was as clear as her decision to leave.
There are no bad decisions in Payton’s journey. She was right to pay attention to her internal question “What am I doing here?” She was right to evaluate herself and her career, to weigh her job options against her values and priorities, and her desire to affect change in service of the greater good.
Was it easy? No. Risky? Hell, yes.
What if she had not been able to return to her old job? Would she have been so quick to leave her government post? Her salary? Even in view of her family obligations?
Payton says yes. The experience showed her how vital it is for her to be her authentic self. To be real. To be true to herself.
It was perfect.
In fact, the question usually surfaces hundreds of times during the course of our working lives. Sometimes it’s a nagging thought, sometimes it’s like a stalker and sometimes it reaches critical mass, hitting us upside the head like a ball peen hammer.
The question can be sparked by any number of circumstances, alone or in combination. Like the realization that time has been passing without any career plan or direction. Or it can be one missed promotion too many. Too little growth. Too much responsibility with too few resources. Too many jerks. Too little passion. Too much anxiety. Too little money. Too many signals that the company or the industry is going south.
Payton’s critical “What am I doing here?” moment was triggered by a number of factors. She’d enjoyed a long, successful career in journalism, with many awards to her credit. Her reporting had achieved recognition across her region and beyond. She had earned the respect of the people she covered and the audience she served, with a reputation for fairness.
Yet. The media business continued to be buffeted by the tsunami forces of shrinking audience and revenues, and Payton’s shop was no exception. Her newsroom was being tasked to provide more and more content, with fewer resources. Payton’s specialty – in-depth reporting on disadvantaged communities – was being marginalized. And in an industry that celebrates youth, her years of experience suddenly seemed like a liability.
So when a government executive offered the chance to work on policies affecting the communities she’d come to care about, Payton decided her combination of circumstances practically ordained her choice. She leapt into public service.
Countless journalists have made similar transitions. And even though most people define reporters as impartial and detached, the truth is that most journalists are drawn to the profession by qualities like curiosity and a desire to affect change through their reporting. The best investigative reporters are passionate and dogged in their pursuit of the facts. They couldn’t be effective if they weren’t.
The idea of moving from observer to policy maker can be awfully seductive. And it can take on the patina of fantasy. Because of your direct involvement, you begin to create a vision of success. And better still, that success is within your control, because now you’re on the inside, where decisions are made and things happen.
Unless they don’t. Payton soon began to realize that the legislator’s vision of policy change was far different from her own, in both direction and pace. The access she assumed she’d have turned out to be more assumption than reality. It was hard to tell whether she was observing conflicting government interests, or simply a lack of interest. Within months, she found herself feeling marginalized, ineffective and powerless.
Worst of all, Payton felt inauthentic. As though she had given up a core piece of herself in order to pursue what seemed to be a greater good. Before she knew it, she was right back at critical mass with the question “What am I doing here?”
This story has a happy ending. Because of the way Payton left her reporting job, the door was open when she inquired about her former position. And after discussions with her old boss, the decision to return to the newsroom was as clear as her decision to leave.
There are no bad decisions in Payton’s journey. She was right to pay attention to her internal question “What am I doing here?” She was right to evaluate herself and her career, to weigh her job options against her values and priorities, and her desire to affect change in service of the greater good.
Was it easy? No. Risky? Hell, yes.
What if she had not been able to return to her old job? Would she have been so quick to leave her government post? Her salary? Even in view of her family obligations?
Payton says yes. The experience showed her how vital it is for her to be her authentic self. To be real. To be true to herself.
It was perfect.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
For What It's Worth
It was appropriate that the client was calling from his car. By any definition, Julian was a man in motion, in transition.
The formal subject of our conversation was a job offer. Julian had traveled across three states to meet with his longtime client. Their ten year relationship was built on mutual respect and appreciation, and now the organization wanted Julian fulltime. Not just as an employee, but as a supervisor and creative director.
The move would be a tremendous shift for Julian. As an independent contractor, he had designed a number of successful products for the company, working out of his home studio and then flying in for consultations on the development and execution of each product line. His positive experience led him to an unofficial role as a recruiter for other creative talent, bringing new artists and perspectives to the firm.
Now the company, settling into its own transition under new ownership, wanted to formalize all of its relationships with Julian, and he was psyched. He viewed the job offer as recognition of the quality of the work he had done, and the investment he’d made in the company.
The timing of the offer seemed to be perfect – if you have a taste for irony. As Julian had left home for the airport, he left with the knowledge that his marriage was ending. In some ways, it was not a surprise. But the events that brought this final realization of what now seemed inevitable still landed like a ton of bricks.
The weightiness of our conversation caused Julian to pull over to the side of the road. Too much to process while trying to drive.
He had a few days to prepare for his next meeting with senior management. The negotiations. It had been years since Julian had actually worked in an office. Now he had to assess things like vacation time. Health care benefits. Investment options. Performance measurements. And the biggest bugaboo of all – salary.
How could he know what he was worth?
We listed the more obvious ways of getting information—talks with people in the company, research on Internet salary calculators, comparison with industry rivals. And we talked about his demonstrated value to the company. That ten year relationship meant he was a known quantity, and therefore should be measured at the mid-salary range for the position. Add the reality that he would have three distinct job functions – designer, creative director and talent development – and Julian saw that he could negotiate from a position of strength.
And at the same time, Julian was not feeling particularly strong nor valued. The end of his marriage was devastating. In contrast to his professional success, he felt that all the effort he had put into his personal life ultimately meant nothing. He was a failure.
From his position by the side of the road, Julian described what excited him about his new job opportunity. Because of his long tenure, he already had relationships in place with several company employees; relationships he would need as he made the transition out of his marriage. He loved the setting of the company headquarters, and the natural beauty that surrounded it. He said that he believed he might be happy again sometime in the future.
I asked him to look around him, and asked if it were possible to see this moment, as we were talking, as a perfect moment. Somewhat startled, he paused and eventually said yes. The sun was shining brightly on the changing leaves around him, perfectly illuminating the transitional fall scene. The artist in him could not help but notice the beauty, and savor it.
My point to Julian was that he did not have to wait for happiness and joy in some far off future. There were bits and chunks of happy available to him right now. And he deserved them. Because he has value, whether his marriage survived or failed, and whether or not the new job worked out. He has value just as he is. And he was going to need to keep his awareness of his worth as he negotiated the transitions on the road before him.
The formal subject of our conversation was a job offer. Julian had traveled across three states to meet with his longtime client. Their ten year relationship was built on mutual respect and appreciation, and now the organization wanted Julian fulltime. Not just as an employee, but as a supervisor and creative director.
The move would be a tremendous shift for Julian. As an independent contractor, he had designed a number of successful products for the company, working out of his home studio and then flying in for consultations on the development and execution of each product line. His positive experience led him to an unofficial role as a recruiter for other creative talent, bringing new artists and perspectives to the firm.
Now the company, settling into its own transition under new ownership, wanted to formalize all of its relationships with Julian, and he was psyched. He viewed the job offer as recognition of the quality of the work he had done, and the investment he’d made in the company.
The timing of the offer seemed to be perfect – if you have a taste for irony. As Julian had left home for the airport, he left with the knowledge that his marriage was ending. In some ways, it was not a surprise. But the events that brought this final realization of what now seemed inevitable still landed like a ton of bricks.
The weightiness of our conversation caused Julian to pull over to the side of the road. Too much to process while trying to drive.
He had a few days to prepare for his next meeting with senior management. The negotiations. It had been years since Julian had actually worked in an office. Now he had to assess things like vacation time. Health care benefits. Investment options. Performance measurements. And the biggest bugaboo of all – salary.
How could he know what he was worth?
We listed the more obvious ways of getting information—talks with people in the company, research on Internet salary calculators, comparison with industry rivals. And we talked about his demonstrated value to the company. That ten year relationship meant he was a known quantity, and therefore should be measured at the mid-salary range for the position. Add the reality that he would have three distinct job functions – designer, creative director and talent development – and Julian saw that he could negotiate from a position of strength.
And at the same time, Julian was not feeling particularly strong nor valued. The end of his marriage was devastating. In contrast to his professional success, he felt that all the effort he had put into his personal life ultimately meant nothing. He was a failure.
From his position by the side of the road, Julian described what excited him about his new job opportunity. Because of his long tenure, he already had relationships in place with several company employees; relationships he would need as he made the transition out of his marriage. He loved the setting of the company headquarters, and the natural beauty that surrounded it. He said that he believed he might be happy again sometime in the future.
I asked him to look around him, and asked if it were possible to see this moment, as we were talking, as a perfect moment. Somewhat startled, he paused and eventually said yes. The sun was shining brightly on the changing leaves around him, perfectly illuminating the transitional fall scene. The artist in him could not help but notice the beauty, and savor it.
My point to Julian was that he did not have to wait for happiness and joy in some far off future. There were bits and chunks of happy available to him right now. And he deserved them. Because he has value, whether his marriage survived or failed, and whether or not the new job worked out. He has value just as he is. And he was going to need to keep his awareness of his worth as he negotiated the transitions on the road before him.
Friday, September 5, 2008
September Signs
The yellow buses are rolling again, a sure sign of the transition from summer to fall. Children are returning to the familiar rhythms of the school calendar, whether they welcome it or not.
However, the transition from the relaxation of summer to the busyness of fall is bringing anxiety to a lot of households. The national outplacement firm of Challenger, Gray and Christmas reported this week that more than 375,000 American jobs were cut this summer – the biggest May-to-August loss in six years.
For most people within that number the old adage of “misery loves company” will provide scant comfort. In fact, it may heighten the anxiety quotient. More people out of work means more competition for fewer jobs.
Even the most casual observer of the communications industry knows that the lay-offs and down-sizing have come fast and furious this year as newspapers and other media outlets try to figure out the rapidly-changing landscape of new competition – the internet, social networking sites, blogs (!), vlogs, podcasts, etc. The advertising dollars that fund the industry have disperse, leaving fewer dollars to cover the news or to cover the salaries of those who did the reporting.
I’ve talked to a number of journalists this summer. People who, after long, productive, successful careers, suddenly found themselves facing mandatory layoffs. Or perhaps they found themselves facing a Hobson’s choice: take the buy-out offer on the table or roll the dice and risk a later layoff, at far less lucrative terms.
Those who continue on in their jobs report rising stress levels, worried that every telephone call or email may bring the end of working life as they know it.
For those who are mid-change, the question looms large – Transition To What?
These media workers, like so many people in the workforce, are coming to grips with the changing employment narrative of the new millennium. Among the newest workers, there is little expectation of having one employer until retirement.
Confronted by the reality of the shifting definitions of “work” and “job” and “employment,” transitioning employees are exhorted by outplacement counselors to view themselves as commodities that require branding, marketing and promotion.
Well, maybe we should think about that for a minute. Or more.
I admire those with a command of marketing and public relations. I have always respected those disciplines and the skills needed to do them well. I have enough respect to know that those skills aren’t authentic to everyone, and if you ask some people to think about their “personal brand,” what you’ll get is a deer-in-the-headlights stare and maybe small trickles of sweat around the hairline.
I think there must be an acknowledgement that some people would be quite content to work for someone or some entity for their entire working lives; taking instruction, performing a task they like and collecting a pay check every two weeks.
They valued that security. They didn’t want the added responsibility of self-promotion, self-branding. They wanted to do their jobs, get recognition when they did them well, and get a fair wage.
Now people are telling these workers that they should have paid attention to the changes swirling around them; that they were naïve at best and irresponsible at worst.
All those things may be true. And the process of transition is going to take workers into areas and options they never considered. The journey may provide more illumination and liberation anyone thought possible.
That doesn't change the sense of loss and mourning that these people feel as they watch the school buses join the flow of September back-to-work traffic, wondering where their transition is going to take them.
They have a right to their mourning. That too is part of the transition.
However, the transition from the relaxation of summer to the busyness of fall is bringing anxiety to a lot of households. The national outplacement firm of Challenger, Gray and Christmas reported this week that more than 375,000 American jobs were cut this summer – the biggest May-to-August loss in six years.
For most people within that number the old adage of “misery loves company” will provide scant comfort. In fact, it may heighten the anxiety quotient. More people out of work means more competition for fewer jobs.
Even the most casual observer of the communications industry knows that the lay-offs and down-sizing have come fast and furious this year as newspapers and other media outlets try to figure out the rapidly-changing landscape of new competition – the internet, social networking sites, blogs (!), vlogs, podcasts, etc. The advertising dollars that fund the industry have disperse, leaving fewer dollars to cover the news or to cover the salaries of those who did the reporting.
I’ve talked to a number of journalists this summer. People who, after long, productive, successful careers, suddenly found themselves facing mandatory layoffs. Or perhaps they found themselves facing a Hobson’s choice: take the buy-out offer on the table or roll the dice and risk a later layoff, at far less lucrative terms.
Those who continue on in their jobs report rising stress levels, worried that every telephone call or email may bring the end of working life as they know it.
For those who are mid-change, the question looms large – Transition To What?
These media workers, like so many people in the workforce, are coming to grips with the changing employment narrative of the new millennium. Among the newest workers, there is little expectation of having one employer until retirement.
Confronted by the reality of the shifting definitions of “work” and “job” and “employment,” transitioning employees are exhorted by outplacement counselors to view themselves as commodities that require branding, marketing and promotion.
Well, maybe we should think about that for a minute. Or more.
I admire those with a command of marketing and public relations. I have always respected those disciplines and the skills needed to do them well. I have enough respect to know that those skills aren’t authentic to everyone, and if you ask some people to think about their “personal brand,” what you’ll get is a deer-in-the-headlights stare and maybe small trickles of sweat around the hairline.
I think there must be an acknowledgement that some people would be quite content to work for someone or some entity for their entire working lives; taking instruction, performing a task they like and collecting a pay check every two weeks.
They valued that security. They didn’t want the added responsibility of self-promotion, self-branding. They wanted to do their jobs, get recognition when they did them well, and get a fair wage.
Now people are telling these workers that they should have paid attention to the changes swirling around them; that they were naïve at best and irresponsible at worst.
All those things may be true. And the process of transition is going to take workers into areas and options they never considered. The journey may provide more illumination and liberation anyone thought possible.
That doesn't change the sense of loss and mourning that these people feel as they watch the school buses join the flow of September back-to-work traffic, wondering where their transition is going to take them.
They have a right to their mourning. That too is part of the transition.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Shape changer
“I want them to see what I can do; not just want I have done.”
My client was describing her vision of what she wanted to convey to potential employers. She knew that she had an impressive resume of accomplishment in a male-dominated field. She had the ability to take scientific knowledge and theory and explain it in a way that made sense to consumers and marketers. She had the agility to shift when economics circumstances changed.
And she had the self-awareness to know when she was changing internally. She knew she had a certain restlessness, and a need to challenge herself anew. She was ahead of the green revolution, and went back to school to get additional training and certification to lead small businesses and larger industries towards smart environmental solutions.
She had a track record of accomplishment. But how to translate that history into a narrative that would show leaders in her new arena what she had to offer?
As you can glean, she is smart. And intuitive. She knew that as an experienced executive, most prospective employers would look at her resume and think of how they could plug her experience into their organizations.
But she knew she was more than her experience. She wanted to express the leader she knew she could be going forward.
That when we started to create a functional resume, a resume that could break down her specific job responsibilities and achievements. She had the insight; together we developed a format that connected the dots between her previous successes and her new learning and her innate creativity and passion.
I love clients like this. People and organizations who can be introspective and look out beyond the horizon at the same time. It’s the willingness to take risk, to reinvent.
Because she can clearly see herself, she can project how she will be seen.
My client was describing her vision of what she wanted to convey to potential employers. She knew that she had an impressive resume of accomplishment in a male-dominated field. She had the ability to take scientific knowledge and theory and explain it in a way that made sense to consumers and marketers. She had the agility to shift when economics circumstances changed.
And she had the self-awareness to know when she was changing internally. She knew she had a certain restlessness, and a need to challenge herself anew. She was ahead of the green revolution, and went back to school to get additional training and certification to lead small businesses and larger industries towards smart environmental solutions.
She had a track record of accomplishment. But how to translate that history into a narrative that would show leaders in her new arena what she had to offer?
As you can glean, she is smart. And intuitive. She knew that as an experienced executive, most prospective employers would look at her resume and think of how they could plug her experience into their organizations.
But she knew she was more than her experience. She wanted to express the leader she knew she could be going forward.
That when we started to create a functional resume, a resume that could break down her specific job responsibilities and achievements. She had the insight; together we developed a format that connected the dots between her previous successes and her new learning and her innate creativity and passion.
I love clients like this. People and organizations who can be introspective and look out beyond the horizon at the same time. It’s the willingness to take risk, to reinvent.
Because she can clearly see herself, she can project how she will be seen.
Monday, June 30, 2008
"I Don't Know"
A friend is in the midst of career transition (I know, get in line). She’s clear about what she does not want to do anymore; about how her work has sucked the joy out of her life and left her among the walking dead.
She tells me about dreams she's had of being in a lovely garden, then realizing that vines within the garden have begun to wrap themselves around her feet and ankles, slowly winding their way up her legs and preventing her from moving.
Well! Can’t get much clearer than that!
However, when asked what she wants to do next, **crickets.**
To break down the question, I asked about her passions.
“I don’t know,” she said, exasperated. “I can’t come up with an answer! What the hell does THAT mean?”
I’m not saying that I know what it means. Sometimes, “I don’t know” means just that: “I don’t know.”
In my experience, “I don’t know” usually is code for “I don’t want to think about this, because if I do, it may mean that I have to choose a course of action or change, and change is scary because I might make the wrong decision, and I don’t know if I can survive that.”
Whew.
In other words, “I don’t know” can be an acknowledgement of fear. And fear rarely provides a good basis for decision making.
She tells me about dreams she's had of being in a lovely garden, then realizing that vines within the garden have begun to wrap themselves around her feet and ankles, slowly winding their way up her legs and preventing her from moving.
Well! Can’t get much clearer than that!
However, when asked what she wants to do next, **crickets.**
To break down the question, I asked about her passions.
“I don’t know,” she said, exasperated. “I can’t come up with an answer! What the hell does THAT mean?”
I’m not saying that I know what it means. Sometimes, “I don’t know” means just that: “I don’t know.”
In my experience, “I don’t know” usually is code for “I don’t want to think about this, because if I do, it may mean that I have to choose a course of action or change, and change is scary because I might make the wrong decision, and I don’t know if I can survive that.”
Whew.
In other words, “I don’t know” can be an acknowledgement of fear. And fear rarely provides a good basis for decision making.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Change up
What is difficult for me about sitting with the process of change?
At the halfway point, 2008 clearly is a year of major change and transition. I write this as the US stock markets resemble a theme park ride. The American political landscape is shifting drastically around us. Gas, housing and grocery prices change so fast that folks are being forced to recalculate their budget decisions on a weekly basis.
Personally, my life has been in transition for years; the kind of transitions that smack you upside the head. The deaths of loved ones; illness; sudden professional moves; family shifts. Obviously, all of our lives are in constant transition; it’s just the more jarring ones that get our notice. You can't avoid awareness of the major transitions (even if you wish you could).
But whether it’s transition writ large or transition writ small, there still is a process and an awareness required to move forward with intention and purpose. There are ways to move with transition, instead of feeling helpless about the changes that are happening to you.
I was working out with my trainer (which, by the way, is a powerful way to manage change and the stress it can bring). He is consistent in his preference to use a variety of methods to achieve basic goals. The specific exercises may vary, but the goals are the same: to built core strength through the abdominal muscles and to build flexibility and strength in the upper and lower muscles of the body. He alternates pushing motions with pulling motions – when to exert strength and when to resist -- with varied amounts of weight.
To balance the effort demanded from various muscle groups, my trainer had me shift free weights from one hand to the other while repeating a motion with another muscle group. Type A personality that I am, I worked to maintain the correct form while striving to quickly master a speedy transfer of weight from one side to the other. That is where he stopped me.
“Take your time,” he said. “You have to slow down to recognize the speed of the transition in front of you. Think of it like the exchange of a baton: the lead off runner has to assess the speed required for the next transition in order to achieve a smooth hand off. You can’t stay at the same speed and shift successfully.”
I think I’m like a lot of people who buy into the idea of seamless change. We like the idea of moving effortlessly from one phase to another without the need for introspection or evaluation. No room for learning. And why should it be necessary? Aren’t we often tasked to take on multiple changes, transitions or crises at the same time? Who has time to slow down when everything is being dumped on you at once?
Yet, here I am at the opposite end of that continuum. Everything has seemed to slow down, and I haven’t a clue of what coming at me. The anticipation is excruciating. How can I prepare if I don’t have a clue of what’s ahead?
And yet, maybe that’s precisely the learning. None of us really knows what’s ahead. What we do know for sure is that change is constant, and that it’s always around the bend. So maybe the best any of us can do is strengthen our core, work on our flexibility and try to measure the speed of the transition in front of us. That way, when we can see the approaching change more clearly, we’ll have the flexibility and strength we need to move in the direction we need to go.
At the halfway point, 2008 clearly is a year of major change and transition. I write this as the US stock markets resemble a theme park ride. The American political landscape is shifting drastically around us. Gas, housing and grocery prices change so fast that folks are being forced to recalculate their budget decisions on a weekly basis.
Personally, my life has been in transition for years; the kind of transitions that smack you upside the head. The deaths of loved ones; illness; sudden professional moves; family shifts. Obviously, all of our lives are in constant transition; it’s just the more jarring ones that get our notice. You can't avoid awareness of the major transitions (even if you wish you could).
But whether it’s transition writ large or transition writ small, there still is a process and an awareness required to move forward with intention and purpose. There are ways to move with transition, instead of feeling helpless about the changes that are happening to you.
I was working out with my trainer (which, by the way, is a powerful way to manage change and the stress it can bring). He is consistent in his preference to use a variety of methods to achieve basic goals. The specific exercises may vary, but the goals are the same: to built core strength through the abdominal muscles and to build flexibility and strength in the upper and lower muscles of the body. He alternates pushing motions with pulling motions – when to exert strength and when to resist -- with varied amounts of weight.
To balance the effort demanded from various muscle groups, my trainer had me shift free weights from one hand to the other while repeating a motion with another muscle group. Type A personality that I am, I worked to maintain the correct form while striving to quickly master a speedy transfer of weight from one side to the other. That is where he stopped me.
“Take your time,” he said. “You have to slow down to recognize the speed of the transition in front of you. Think of it like the exchange of a baton: the lead off runner has to assess the speed required for the next transition in order to achieve a smooth hand off. You can’t stay at the same speed and shift successfully.”
I think I’m like a lot of people who buy into the idea of seamless change. We like the idea of moving effortlessly from one phase to another without the need for introspection or evaluation. No room for learning. And why should it be necessary? Aren’t we often tasked to take on multiple changes, transitions or crises at the same time? Who has time to slow down when everything is being dumped on you at once?
Yet, here I am at the opposite end of that continuum. Everything has seemed to slow down, and I haven’t a clue of what coming at me. The anticipation is excruciating. How can I prepare if I don’t have a clue of what’s ahead?
And yet, maybe that’s precisely the learning. None of us really knows what’s ahead. What we do know for sure is that change is constant, and that it’s always around the bend. So maybe the best any of us can do is strengthen our core, work on our flexibility and try to measure the speed of the transition in front of us. That way, when we can see the approaching change more clearly, we’ll have the flexibility and strength we need to move in the direction we need to go.
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