Tiny Buddha

Tag: career

  • Reframing My Job Rejections: A Beautiful Period of Growth

    Reframing My Job Rejections: A Beautiful Period of Growth

    “When we are kind to ourselves, we create inner conditions that make it possible to see clearly and respond wisely.” ~Dr. Kristin Neff

    Searching for a job can feel like an unrelenting test of resilience—a labyrinth of rejection, silence, and self-doubt.

    When I embarked on my journey to apply for 100 jobs in a single month, I wasn’t prepared for the emotional toll it would take. Each application felt like a precarious act of hope, sent into the void of an indifferent system. Every click of the “submit” button came with a flicker of anticipation, a brief moment of optimism that maybe this time, someone would see my potential.

    Yet, amid the uncertainty, I discovered something unexpected: a way to reclaim my story. This wasn’t just about finding work; it became a practice in resilience, self-compassion, and redefining professional worth. What began as a desperate attempt to secure stability turned into a transformative experience that reshaped the way I saw myself and my place in the professional world.

    Each application felt like a small act of defiance against a system that renders workers disposable, transforming professional aspirations into a landscape of cold indifference. My previous attempts to find full-time work had often been met with silence—an absence more profound and dehumanizing than outright rejection. That silence had eroded my confidence, leaving me questioning not just my qualifications but my intrinsic worth.

    As I ventured deeper into the process, I realized that I wasn’t merely searching for employment. I was navigating something much larger: the contours of the contemporary labor struggle. Job boards became my terrain for resilience, a place where I could declare, with every submission, “My skills, my experience, my potential cannot be erased by institutional indifference.”

    Tracking my applications became more than administrative work. At first, it was a way to stay organized, to ensure I didn’t apply to the same position twice or miss a follow-up deadline. But as the list grew, it took on a deeper significance. It became a form of personal documentation—a way to transform passive job searching into active narrative reclamation.

    Two-thirds of my applications disappeared into digital voids, with no acknowledgment or response. Initially, the silence felt unbearable, like shouting into a canyon and waiting for an echo that never came. But over time, I began to see the act of tracking itself as a quiet form of resistance. The spreadsheet wasn’t just a list; it was a testament to my determination to persist, even when the system seemed designed to break me.

    Reframing became my most powerful tool. I wasn’t a desperate job seeker; I was a skilled professional documenting my own resilience. The act of reframing shifted my perspective in profound ways. I began to see the job search not as a series of defeats but as evidence of my ability to adapt and persevere.

    When I looked at my spreadsheet, I didn’t just see rejections or unanswered submissions. I saw proof that I was showing up every day, putting myself out there despite the challenges. Reframing wasn’t about denying the difficulty of the process; it was about choosing to focus on my capacity to keep going.

    Interviews emerged as spaces of radical authenticity. Early in the process, I felt the pressure to perform an idealized version of myself. I spent time (and money!) trying to craft answers with interview coaches that would make me sound confident, polished, and perfect. But those attempts often left me feeling disconnected, as if I were trying to fit into a mold that wasn’t mine.

    Eventually, I decided to approach interviews differently. Instead of trying to present a flawless persona, I showed up as my complete, nuanced self. I shared my genuine thoughts, admitted when I didn’t know the answer to a question, and focused on building real connections with my interviewers.

    Preparation shifted from trying to memorize the “right” answers to reflecting on what truly mattered to me—my values, my experiences, and the unique perspective I brought to the table. This approach didn’t guarantee a job offer, but it made every interview feel meaningful. It reminded me that my worth wasn’t tied to whether or not I got the role.

    Each small win became a form of self-care. In a process filled with uncertainty, I learned to celebrate the moments of progress, no matter how small they seemed. A well-crafted cover letter. A thoughtful follow-up email. An interview that felt like a genuine conversation rather than a performance.

    These small victories were more than steps toward employment; they were acts of personal and professional dignity. They reminded me that the effort I was putting in mattered, even if the results weren’t immediate. Celebrating these wins helped me stay motivated, turning what could have been a demoralizing process into one of empowerment.

    By the end of the month, I understood that this journey was never just about landing a job. It was about challenging the systemic barriers that render workers invisible. It was about creating alternative narratives of professional worth—ones that extend beyond traditional metrics of success.

    The process taught me that resilience isn’t about never feeling defeated; it’s about finding ways to move forward even when the path is unclear. It’s about reframing rejection as part of the journey rather than a reflection of personal failure.

    To anyone navigating precarious labor landscapes: Your worth isn’t determined by employment. Your resilience, your capacity for adaptation, your ability to maintain integrity in challenging systems—these are the true measures of your power.

    Progress isn’t linear. Institutional systems aren’t designed for our collective flourishing. But our capacity for reimagining our own narratives? That remains infinite.

    The job search, in all its messiness, taught me to be kinder to myself. It taught me that showing up is an act of courage, that persistence is a form of strength, and that my value exists regardless of external validation.

    When I look back on those 100 applications, I don’t just see a period of struggle—I see a period of growth. It was a time when I learned to navigate uncertainty with grace, to reclaim my story, and to find dignity in the process. If you’re in the midst of your own search, I hope my experience reminds you that you are more than the sum of your rejections.

    Because at the end of the day, resilience isn’t about what you achieve—it’s about how you choose to show up, again and again, no matter the odds.

  • The Monumental Trap of Overworking Yourself for Recognition

    The Monumental Trap of Overworking Yourself for Recognition

    “Expectations are premeditated resentments.” ~Unknown

    Yesterday, I found myself sitting across from my boss, fighting back tears as I voiced something that had been eating away at me for three years: “I don’t feel valued enough.”

    The words felt heavy in my throat. As a law professor, I’d always prided myself on being composed and professional. But in that moment, all my carefully constructed walls came crumbling down.

    “I put in extra hours. I mentor people. I’m always available when someone needs help,” I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. “But it feels like nobody really appreciates it. Like all this effort goes unnoticed.”

    Anyone who’s ever poured their heart into their work might recognize this feeling.

    Maybe you’re the colleague who always stays late to help others meet deadlines. Perhaps you’re the team member who takes on extra projects without being asked. Or the person who remembers everyone’s birthdays and organizes office celebrations.

    You give and give, hoping that somehow, this dedication will translate into the recognition and respect you crave.

    My boss listened quietly, his expression thoughtful. Then he shared two insights that shook my understanding of professional relationships.

    “First,” he said, leaning forward, “mastery in any field takes time. But here’s what most people miss—it’s not just about mastering your technical skills. It’s about mastering your relationship with the work itself.”

    I sat with that for a moment, letting it sink in. How much of my frustration came from actually doing my job versus my expectations of how others should respond to my efforts?

    “Second,” he continued, “when we tie our confidence to others’ reactions, we’re building our professional house on shifting sand.”

    That hit home hard. I realized I had created an elaborate scorecard in my head: Each extra hour should equal a certain amount of appreciation; each additional task should translate to a specific level of respect. When reality didn’t match these expectations, my confidence crumbled.

    It’s a trap many of us fall into. We believe that if we just work hard enough, stay late enough, and help enough people, recognition will naturally follow. When it doesn’t, we feel betrayed and undervalued and begin to question our worth.

    Ultimately, we need to learn to validate ourselves, but here’s where things get nuanced—and important. This doesn’t mean we should accept environments that consistently undervalue or exploit our dedication. There’s a delicate balance between developing intrinsic motivation and recognizing when a situation is genuinely unhealthy.

    Let me share what this balance looks like in practice. A few months ago, I noticed I was staying three hours late every day, answering work messages at midnight, and constantly taking on others’ responsibilities. At first, I told myself I was just being dedicated. But then I asked myself three crucial questions:

    1. Is this a pattern of working hard without any recognition, or am I overextending myself because I’m seeking validation?

    2. Are my extra efforts occasionally acknowledged, even if not always?

    3. Do I feel safe expressing concerns about workload and boundaries?

    The answers helped me distinguish between my desire for constant validation and my legitimate need for basic professional respect. I realized that while I needed to work on my own relationship with external validation, I also needed to set clearer boundaries about my time and energy.

    That evening, I opened my laptop and started a different kind of work journal. Instead of tracking others’ reactions, I wrote down what I felt proud of that day: explaining a complex concept clearly, helping someone understand a difficult topic, and making progress on a challenging project. But I also noted when my boundaries were crossed and when additional effort went beyond reasonable expectations.

    This dual awareness—of both internal validation and external respect—changed everything.

    I learned to appreciate my own efforts while also advocating for myself when necessary. I started leaving work at a reasonable hour most days, saving those extra hours for truly important projects. I began setting boundaries around my availability, and surprisingly, this earned me more respect, not less.

    Here’s what I’ve learned about finding this balance:

    1. Question your expectations. Distinguish between needing constant praise and deserving basic respect.

    2. Look for impact, not appreciation. When I did this, I noticed small moments I’d previously overlooked: a quiet nod of understanding during a presentation and a subtle shift in someone’s confidence after our interaction.

    3. Build internal metrics. Define success on your own terms, but don’t ignore red flags in your environment.

    4. Set healthy boundaries. Your dedication shouldn’t come at the cost of your well-being.

    5. Recognize the difference. Know when you’re seeking validation versus when you’re being undervalued.

    Most importantly, I’ve learned that true professional satisfaction comes from a combination of internal confidence and external respect. It’s about knowing your worth while ensuring you’re in an environment that, at least fundamentally, recognizes it too.

    Now, when I catch myself slipping into old patterns—checking for signs of appreciation or feeling resentful about unacknowledged efforts—I pause and ask two questions: “Am I doing this because it matters to me, or am I doing it for recognition?” And equally important: “Is this a reasonable expectation of my time and energy?”

    Some days are still challenging. There are still moments when I wish for more recognition. But I’ve found peace in knowing that while I don’t need constant validation, it’s okay to expect basic respect and appreciation in my professional life. The key is building enough self-worth to know when you’re seeking excess validation and when you’re simply asking to be valued appropriately.

    This morning, I walked into my workplace with a different energy. I felt confident in my worth, clear about my boundaries, and secure in knowing that while I don’t need endless praise, I deserve to be in an environment that recognizes my contributions. Because true professional growth isn’t about learning to accept less than you deserve—it’s about finding that sweet spot between internal validation and healthy external recognition.

  • I Might Fail, but Time Won’t Just Pass Me By

    I Might Fail, but Time Won’t Just Pass Me By

    “It’s not about time, it’s about choices. How are you spending your choices?” ~Beverly Adamo

    You hit a point in life after which choices seem to become less and less reversible. As if they were engraved in stone.

    No matter how many motivational posts about following your own timeline and going at your own pace cross your Instagram wall.

    No matter how much you try to convince yourself that it’s never too late to start a new career, move into a new house, or find the right person. It’s not that you don’t believe it—it just does not work for you. It’s okay for other people to follow their dreams and dance to their own rhythm. But not for you.

    You feel like you’re in school again, falling behind.

    The more you tell yourself that you don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations, the more you realize the only person you’re afraid to disappoint is the one looking back at you in the mirror.

    I used to listen to this song that goes,

    I wake up in the middle of night

    It’s like I can feel time moving

    And I did. I did wake up at 3:00 a.m., haunted by question marks.

    And to think that I was doing everything right! I had graduated, moved in with my boyfriend, and started working as a teacher. I had a spotless resume.

    Still, I was obsessed with the idea of time moving. Of time unstoppably reaching the point after which I simply would’ve had no choice but to stop seeing my situation as temporary and resign to the fact that no greater idea had come to my mind—and that I was stuck with that.

    With my daily life in the classroom.

    Now don’t get me wrong. I am not one of those people who ended up teaching because they couldn’t get a better job. On the contrary, teaching has always been my passion. It still is.

    The classroom, on the other hand…

    There was not a single day in my four years as a teacher during which I really thought this could be a good fit for me in the long run. Not once.

    There were bad days, good days. “Easy” classes, tough classes. Small victories, daily failures. Parents who wanted to sue me and students who wanted me to adopt them—one of those end-of-the-school-year letters still hangs on my fridge. But each and every one of those days, I knew I wanted this to be temporary.

    I didn’t want to stay in the classroom forever.

    It’s hard to pin it down. All I wanted to do was to be myself and teach something I love. But, as a teacher, you and your students don’t exist in a bubble. You’re very much intertwined with the complicated, emotionally loaded context of the classroom. So, you’re forced to impersonate the role of the Teacher.

    Unlike me, the Teacher was able to come to terms with the pressing matter of relevance. I knew that most of the curriculum I had to teach, and the way in which I had to teach it, was so far removed from the reality of my students that no amount of interactive lesson plans and student-centered methodologies could help me get the point across.

    As the Teacher, I was supposed to feel comfortable in the role, to identify myself with it rather than question it every step of the way. I just didn’t feel at ease. As a facilitator, as a guide, as a tutor, I’d always felt whole—not as a teacher. As much as I admired and respected those who did, I couldn’t do the same.

    I really, really did everything I could to solve my issues.

    I tried to fake it ‘til I made it. I read all the books. Attended all the courses. Shared my thoughts.

    Every time I told someone how I felt, they would reply with all the right things.

    That it’s just the first few years, until you get used to it, and I’m sure it is true—for me.

    That you’re actually really doing something for the kids, that you’re making a difference—and I don’t doubt that teachers do make a difference. Just not me.

    That you need to come to terms with the fact that, no matter what your job is, it is not supposed to be fun or fulfilling. But, as whiny as it might sound, that’s what I needed it to be.

    Maybe not perfect, maybe not idyllic, but please, please, please not meaningless.

    And then the intruding thought: “What, ‘cause you’re special? ‘Cause you’re too good to just get by, day in and day out, like everyone does?”

    I’ve always worried about being difficult, and I really wanted it to work, so that sensation of having to crawl into someone else’s skin every day when I got into the classroom—I just tried to push it aside. To swallow it down and get myself together.

    Still, it was there, and the only way to stop it was to think that it could be temporary after all.

    Just until you find a better job.

    Just until you come up with something else.

    Just until you find out what the hell is wrong with you.

    The only thing that managed to distract me was studying. I would come home and study, trying to keep my mind alive, trying to keep it dreaming, trying to keep it learning.

    I invested time and money, draining all my energies. I was constantly tired from the effort of basically being a full-time student on top of a full-time job. Luckily, I had the support of my boyfriend—later, husband—who had no idea what it all would amount to but could see that I needed it.

    It’s not like I had a project, though. I ached for meaning. I needed to learn something that felt real to me.

    That’s how I started to dig into languages. Here was something that felt relevant, immediate. You could learn it and use it straight away. You could communicate—something I just wasn’t able to do in my classroom teaching.

    I passed exams. I passed more exams. I kept piling up certificates and prayed that one day it would all start to sort of look like a plan. Before it was too late, before I had to admit to just being an overachieving, overqualified teacher.

    I knew the danger—some people, when they’re unhappy, just give up and become passive. Others, like me, do the opposite. They keep spinning their wheels because, as long as you’re busy, you don’t have to face the reality of how you feel.

    That’s what hit me every time I woke up at three am. How much time did I still have to change tracks? How long before it was too late for me?

    It’s like I can feel time moving…

    I wish I could tell you that I finally found my way and that this is a story of success. The truth is, I don’t know if it will ever be.

    Last Christmas I suddenly realized my personal hourglass had run out of sand. I just knew that if I set foot again in the classroom in September, it would no longer be temporary. I felt this was my last chance to try and do something different before giving up for good.

    I stopped waiting for the universe to reveal its mysterious plans and took my fate into my own hands. Teaching outside the classroom was something I had always vaguely dreamed of doing but never dared to.

    What if I’m not good enough?

    What if I don’t earn enough?

    What if it feels even worse than in the classroom—and would that mean that the problem was really just me all along, no matter what I do and where I do it?

    What if I messed up my plan B, too? What then?

    I just finally said, “To hell with it.” There must be a bit of truth in all those Instagram motivational posts, right?

    As of now, I am trying to build a career as a tutor and language teacher for adults, and I have no idea if I am going to make it.

    I closed my eyes and jumped right in, expecting the water to be icy cold, but it wasn’t. I braced myself for the anxiety this new uncertainty would bring with it, just to find that I actually feel at peace.

    There are plans to make, problems to solve, no financial stability, and no guarantee of success—something my perfectionist self can hardly manage. And still, it feels far less daunting and menacing than time slowly gnawing at me.

    I wish I could tell you that this story has a moral.

    That you should stop listening to good advice and common sense and just follow your gut, and that you may be surprised by how much unexpected support you receive or how little you need.

    That you shouldn’t try so hard to be something you’re not.

    That there are many ways to find meaning, and no one can tell you how to do it for yourself.

    That sometimes giving up takes more courage than sticking with something that doesn’t fulfill you.

    But, to tell the truth, I don’t feel like it was brave of me to change paths. It wasn’t about choosing the easiest or the hardest thing—it was about choosing the honest thing.

    I wish I could tell you I no longer wake up in the middle of the night, but the truth is, I do, because I’m so caught up in this new adventure that I really can’t stop jotting down ideas and looking for job opportunities.

    I know I don’t have to prove myself to anyone, and I also know that I can’t help but feel like I should, and that’s okay too.

    I know I might fail, and I’m not so bold as to plainly say I don’t care if I do. I actually do care, a lot.

    But one thing’s for sure—I no longer live in the fear of time passing me by.

  • How My Life Changed After 365 Days of Self-Discovery

    How My Life Changed After 365 Days of Self-Discovery

    “The only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle.” ~Steve Jobs

    In 2017, I stood at a crossroads. Armed with a law degree but burdened by uncertainty, I faced a future that felt both daunting and uninspiring. The path I had chosen—the one society had essentially prescribed for me—suddenly seemed hollow because the path did not align well with my values and a vision of fulfilling life.

    I knew I needed a change, but the prospect of starting over terrified me. Today, I wake up every morning filled with purpose and excitement. I’m a passionate educator, inspiring students and shaping futures.

    The transformation from confused law graduate to fulfilled teacher didn’t happen overnight, but it did occur in just one year. Here’s how I navigated this life-changing career transition, and how you can make a change too, regardless of your starting point or destination.

    The first step was reframing my mindset. Instead of viewing my career change as a risky leap into the unknown, I decided to treat it as a year-long experiment in self-discovery. This shift allowed me to approach each day with curiosity rather than fear.

    I set a simple goal: learn something new about myself or a potential career path every single day. Some days, this meant reading articles about different professions. Other days, I attended networking events or conducted informational interviews.

    The key was consistency. I committed to doing something every day, no matter how small.

    One of the biggest hurdles I faced was the weight of others’ expectations. Friends, family, and even strangers had opinions about my choice to leave law behind. “But you worked so hard for that degree!” they’d say, or “Lawyers make such good money; why would you give that up?”

    I had to learn to silence these voices—not just externally but internally too. I realized I had internalized many of society’s expectations about success and prestige.

    Letting go of these allowed me to truly listen to my own desires and intuitions.

    Each evening, I spent fifteen minutes journaling about my experiences and feelings. This simple practice became a powerful tool for self-discovery.

    I asked myself questions like: What energized me today? What drained me? What am I curious to learn more about? What fears or doubts came up, and where did they come from?

    I also began noting moments of gratitude, no matter how small—like a kind word from a friend or the warmth of the evening breeze. These reflections not only helped me understand my emotions but also shifted my focus toward growth and possibilities.

    Over time, patterns emerged. I noticed how my energy soared when I helped others understand complex topics and how I lit up when discussing ideas rather than legal statutes.

    Leaving the familiar world of law behind was uncomfortable. There were days filled with doubt and anxiety. But I learned to lean into this discomfort, recognizing it as a sign of growth.

    I started small, challenging myself to do one thing outside my comfort zone each week. Sometimes this meant attending a meetup group alone; other times it was reaching out to a stranger for career advice.

    Each small step built my confidence and resilience.

    The pivotal moment came when I volunteered to teach a weekend workshop on basic legal concepts for high school students. Standing in front of that classroom, watching eyes light up with understanding, I felt a spark I’d never experienced in law.

    This experience led me to seek out more teaching opportunities. I tutored, led study groups, and eventually secured a position as a teaching assistant at a local community college.

    With each experience, my passion for education grew stronger.

    My year of self-discovery wasn’t just about passive reflection. It was an active cycle of learning and doing. I’d learn about a potential career path, then find a way to experience it firsthand.

    This hands-on approach accelerated my growth and helped me quickly identify what resonated with me.

    Looking back, I realize that the most crucial factor in my successful career transition wasn’t innate talent or lucky breaks. It was consistency. By committing to daily action and reflection, I made steady progress even when I couldn’t see the end goal.

    This consistency put me ahead of 99% of people who dream of career changes but never take sustained action. It’s not about making huge leaps every day; it’s about small, consistent steps in the direction of your dreams.

    My path led me from law to education, but your journey might look entirely different. The beauty of self-discovery is that it’s uniquely yours. The “right” path isn’t always obvious or immediate, but by giving yourself permission to explore, you open the door to possibilities you might never have imagined.

    As you embark on your own journey of self-discovery, remember:

    1. Reframe challenges as experiments and learning opportunities.

    Each hurdle is a step closer to understanding yourself and what you’re capable of.

    2. Practice daily reflection to uncover your true desires and motivations…

    …perhaps using the questions I shared above to identify what energizes and drains you, what excites your curiosity, and what might be holding you back. Writing your thoughts consistently will create a map of your inner world.

    3. Embrace discomfort as a sign of growth.

    The moments that feel challenging often signal transformation. Lean into them with trust and courage.

    4. Seek out hands-on experiences in fields that interest you.

    Whether it’s through volunteering, interning, shadowing, or simply having conversations with people in those spaces, the exposure can illuminate paths you hadn’t considered.

    5. Stay consistent, taking small actions every day.

    Progress doesn’t require giant leaps; steady steps compound into meaningful outcomes.

    6. Be patient with yourself and the process.

    Meaningful change and self-discovery don’t happen overnight. Celebrate the small wins, and remember that setbacks are part of the journey.

    Lastly, cultivate gratitude and curiosity. These are the twin forces that fuel resilience and creativity, helping you see the beauty in both the process and the unknown.

    The only way to fail in this process is to never try. So, I encourage you: start your year of fearless exploration today. Your future self will thank you for having the courage to seek a life and career that truly fulfills you.

  • I Had Enough: What’s Happened Since I Quit My Job

    I Had Enough: What’s Happened Since I Quit My Job

    “Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is walk away from the things that no longer serve your growth or well-being.” ~Unknown

    I’ve always been a very independent person with an adventurous spirit, so no one was surprised when I moved away from my small town in Ontario, Canada, to become a nanny in Spain the second I graduated from high school.

    It was a whole new world with ancient streets, delicious food, and friendly people. I knew that I had made the right choice to adventure away from the place where I was raised.

    I’m someone who has itchy feet. It’s been difficult to stay in one place for any length of time. Over the last twelve years, I’ve lived all over the map, from Spain to Calgary, Alberta, and most recently in Vancouver, British Columbia.

    The town where I grew up is known for its brutal winters, quiet neighborhoods, and having “not much to do” there. So naturally, I spent my twenties looking to live in any place that was as different as possible from that boring town where I was raised.

    The first time I had visited the west coast, I thought: Why would anyone live anywhere else in this country besides here? The mountains, the ocean, the active lifestyle, the endless options for outdoor adventure… I fell in love with it and ended up spending almost a decade of my life as a West Coast girl.

    During this time, I got a university degree and, shortly after, landed a job at a tech company, where I was earning a salary that I didn’t ever think would be possible for me.

    At first, the job was a positive feature in my life: I learned all kinds of skills I hadn’t had the opportunity to develop before. I was given promotions and eventually was put in a position to lead a team, something I ended up really enjoying. But over time, I started to notice little things that made me question whether I was really happy.

    I remember having a conversation with a close friend about a year and a half into the job, where I expressed strong discontentment for my work. My friend, the wise woman she is, immediately validated my concerns and gave her opinion that I should really quit this job.

    I remember thinking, how shortsighted of her. Doesn’t she realize if I quit, I won’t be able to make this salary again? I have bills to pay and people on my team at work who need me.

    Fast forward; another year flew by, and things only got worse. I was working ten-hour days consistently, and I developed stomach pain and started having migraines. My weekends were bogged down by thoughts of the mess I would return to on Monday morning.

    My friends and family continued to call out how this job was not constructive for me and let me know that I wasn’t the same “light” person I used to be. My mother in particular did not like that I was no longer writing or doing anything creative anymore as a result of my energy being sucked away by this job.

    After many nights of sleeplessness due to the nature of this massive decision, I finally decided to act. Now, in case anyone is reading this and is in a similar situation, I want to share just how difficult this decision was for me.

    I wasn’t able to hear feedback from my family and friends and immediately quit my job. No, there were many months in the middle where I would flip-flop. I think leaving a job is the same as leaving a relationship—only you will know when you are truly ready.

    Quitting this job was one of the most difficult things I’ve done in recent years. I had spent countless days and nights weighing the pros and cons of my decision, thinking about the team members involved. Who would I be putting in a tough situation? Would the company be able to replace me? Would I be upsetting team members, my boss, the CEO? Was I a failure for quitting? Did this burnout say something about my value as a worker, as a person?

    When I finally turned in my resignation, I was stunned to learn that nobody really cared. I thought for sure I would hear from the folks I worked with after I left, but it has now been several months, and I have heard from no one.

    In the middle of this decision-making process, I was in close contact with my mother. She is an amazing woman who lives on her own in a quaint, lovely house in the small Ontario town where we’re from. The town that I spent years dreaming about leaving. So, when she heard I was thinking of quitting my job and suggested I could move back home and live with her, naturally, I was offended she would even suggest the idea.

    Move back in with my mom? What would everyone think of me? Thirty-one, jobless, and living at home?

    But over time, to everyone’s surprise, especially my own, I started to warm up to the idea. Living alone in a big city, working a difficult job, and providing everything for myself for the last fourteen years was catching up to me. I was exhausted and lonely.

    So, in March this year, I packed up my apartment in beautiful North Vancouver, fit what I could into my Toyota Corolla (including my border collie mix, Rex), and drove across the country, back to small town Ontario.

    In a lot of ways, being back in my hometown is weird. There is definitely less to do here than in big Canadian cities. Instead of spending my weekends with friends, I usually spend them with my mom’s friends or my siblings. Instead of hiking epic, world-famous mountains, I walk in the trails along the street where we live. It is a quiet life, much different than what I’ve left behind.

    But at thirty-one, after the last decade of independent living and the last few years of this difficult job, I welcome the quiet life with open arms.

    I traded long days and late nights working remotely, feeling stressed and isolated, for sleep-in mornings with my dog and forest walks where I’m not checking my watch because I need to make sure I get back for a meeting at 1 p.m.

    Now, instead of trying to find time in the day to eat a meal, I cook big dinners that I get to share with family and friends. I now get a hug from my mother every morning instead of only once a year at Christmas.

    We’ve all heard the cliches about life being short, time with family being invaluable, money isn’t everything, etc.. But isn’t it true that cliches are cliches for a reason.

    We know that days on this earth are not promised for any of us. I didn’t want to be thirty-one years old, working in a lonely apartment, giving my energy to a company that didn’t care about me for another ten years.

    While the decision was difficult, especially in this economy, I will say it is amazing how many doors open when you free your mind from the mental gymnastics of a toxic job and the decision-making of whether you should leave it.

    My life looks different now: I’ve started writing again (look, you’re reading one of my articles now), I’ve started a master’s program, and I’ve got plans to become a fitness instructor, something I’ve always wanted to do but haven’t had the time.

    Of course there are unknowns in my life, and I don’t know if I will live in this small town forever. But for now, it’s given me invaluable time with my mother and family, a place to rest and recover from years of working a very stressful job, and a chance to start a few new projects that make me feel like “me” again.

    If you are in a similar predicament, and if you are lucky enough to have some of the same privileges that I do, I recommend that you allow yourself a break. This doesn’t have to mean moving back in with your parents. It could also mean leaning on your partner for a while if that’s an option. Or utilizing savings for a bit, if you have any, to give yourself time to focus on what really matters and figure out what’s next.

    Family, health, and happiness should always come before the corporate grind, society’s expectations of you, or any amount of money. I hope this serves as a reminder.

  • 5 Tips for Updating Your Career and Life to Match Who You Are Now

    5 Tips for Updating Your Career and Life to Match Who You Are Now

    “All you’re going to lose is what was built for a person you no longer are.” ~Brianna Wiest

    I’ll admit it. I stayed in a failed marriage for five years past its expiration date. I got especially good at faking smiles in public and relegating myself to my laptop most evenings.

    I also sentenced myself to a career that stopped “lighting me up” about a decade before I was ready to wave the white flag of surrender. As in my marriage, I refused to believe its end for ages and tried everything I could think of to keep this dying flame alive. I switched positions and teams, constantly created new goalposts for myself, changed organizations, and even moved to Asia well before I was willing to let my career go.

    And one day, without warning, my sister called from New York to say that our beautiful mother had just crossed over to the other side. On that soft green couch in South Korea, thousands of miles from family, my already deeply unsatisfactory private life imploded. So did the carefully curated and adventurous-looking life that everyone on the outside saw. I was broken.

    Please allow me a “real talk” time out, folks.

    Can we discuss the importance of using our persistent feelings as signals, or guideposts? I’m not suggesting we throw out logic. I’m also not referring to our typically loud and fleeting reactions to everyday stressors. I’m talking about an instinctive knowing, the quiet kind that’s easy to ignore.

    Though I routinely taught this to my own two children and students, my intellectualizing didn’t mean I was actually practicing what I preached. Not by a long shot.

    Not until a powerful wave of grief swept the rug out from under me, that is.

    Deeply empathetic and sensitive, with a mother who was a counselor, I grew up learning how to accept and validate my feelings. I knew to listen to them, to manage them when they didn’t serve me, and to use them to identify opportunities to learn more about myself. So, why on earth would I work so hard to hide them from my own conscious awareness for years when I knew my marriage and career were no longer right for me? I’ve got thoughts on that.

    Perhaps it was because ignoring my feelings and deeper knowing kept me safely in a socially acceptable family structure.

    Perhaps it was because ignoring my feelings and deeper knowing made it easy to receive invitations to holiday dinners with other international families while living abroad.

    Perhaps it was because ignoring my feelings and deeper knowing allowed me to continue to make good money, feel successful as a professional, provide for my children, and travel to new countries a few times a year.

    Perhaps it was because ignoring my feelings and deeper knowing had predictable, albeit routinely unpleasant, results.

    Perhaps it was because I had no idea who I would be if I wasn’t a wife or a teacher.

    But when my mother passed away, my entire world went dark. Suddenly, nothing else mattered.

    Losing my mother was the single hardest experience of my lifetime. It was also the catalyst for my own wake-up call on multiple levels. And perhaps this was what my soul needed to remember how to seek what did matter, and to recognize my own fulfillment as worthy of sitting at the very top spot of that list.

    Layers of grief forced me to experience feelings I’d been bottling up for years. Grief pressed me to listen to my feelings and to ask what there was to learn from the patterns in my life. It begged me to create the space and stillness to finally accept that the career and life I had built were ones I had long outgrown. It also prompted me to finally ask for help.

    I wasn’t happy living a life I had built decades ago because I was no longer that person, and accepting this realization was empowering.

    Eventually, and with the aid of some irrefutable signs from the universe and some excellent coaching, I gave myself permission to pivot from my profession. I could also see that my resistance to change had been the only true thing standing between me and a much more fulfilling life and career. Not anymore.

    Loss is a beast. But on the other side of it, there is inevitably gain.

    If you find yourself at a crossroads in life and crave a pathway for building something new to fit the person you have grown into, I have an annoyingly obvious secret to share. The only person capable of carving this way forward is you. And while this may feel like an impossible and unwelcome challenge, I venture to say that this fact could end up being your greatest gift.

    What if you could see beyond the endings and revel in the endless possibilities ahead?

    What kind of work and contribution to the world would you pursue if none of society’s imposed limits existed?

    If money were no object, what would you spend your time doing.

    What type of life do you want to build for yourself?

    What would future you, nearing the end of their life, look back on and smile contentedly about?

    While I can’t give you any of your answers, my own failures and aha moments have allowed me to compile the following tips for folks like you who may be approaching a career transition.

    If you’ve decided your fulfillment should be at the top of your life list and you’re ready to update your career to match the version of you who is reading this today, try these five tips on for size.

    1. Create some space or spaciousness before life creates it for you.

    Once upon a time, before my whole world stopped with a single sharp loss, my mind loved wasting entire days on unimportant details of daily life. The state of constant busyness I tended to wrap myself in had allowed me to bury the deep feelings of restlessness and dissatisfaction lurking faithfully just below the surface.

    My incessant thoughts were part of my unconscious “living” and were a big part of what prevented me from being aware, present, and authentic in my current reality. I thought my thoughts were me, but I was so far from the truth.

    I may never have stopped this incessant mind-drivel had I not been handed Don’t Believe Everything You Think: Why Your Thinking Is the Beginning and End to Your Suffering by Joseph Nguyen.

    It taught me that if I didn’t choose to actively create internal space by taking up daily yoga and meditation (or another practice), I never would have gotten to know who I truly was. And without that, how on earth would I have created a career shift to match the updated version of myself? (News flash: I would not have.)

    If you choose just one item from this list to try before making a career shift, please let this be the one. Commit to one practice that creates spaciousness in your life and refuse to let go. Because if your new career is going to match the updated version of you, you have got to start with getting to know yourself. And you’ll only achieve this by making space and staying there a while, routinely.

    2. Take stock of the childhood dreams you (mistakenly) labeled as fantasies.

    What did you want to do when you were seven? You may laugh, but this question is so useful in helping us to see what our soul has always been drawn to do (at least, before society stepped in with all of its “shoulds”).

    When we’re young children, we’re not nearly as caught up in our own minds as our adult selves are. As a result, we’re much more easily opened up to our purpose, our desires, and joy-seeking behaviors.

    Make a list of the things you enjoyed doing as a seven-year-old. Do you still do any of these things today? Do any of these things appeal or inspire new, similar ideas? Take stock, and please don’t laugh them off. The key to a glorious, fulfilling future may lie in these former hobbies and interests.

    3. See yourself for who you are now (not for who you used to be).

    Let’s also be sure to get to know the person we have become today.

    If nobody in your family could see into your ballot box for career-choosing, where would your vote go? We no longer need to please our parents! We’re adulting, after all. We aren’t here to please our spouses or our children either (though we can and should darn well love the heck out of them). We are here to please ourselves, and once that’s in place, well, you know the rest.

    For some of us, asking people who are closest to us for feedback can really help to get the ball rolling, too. What do our closest friends or colleagues see as our key strengths and weaknesses? What do they notice us bringing to any room we enter? Keep the feedback that resonates and leave the rest.

    4. Notice what fires you up.

    What do you find yourself getting passionate (either intensely interested or completely annoyed) about? What could you spend your whole day doing (if life wasn’t always “lifing”)? What comes easily to you and allows you to feel in the flow?

    Herein lie clues about your interests and passions, and potentially some of your core skills or gifts. What makes time fly by for you? What conversations do you find yourself drawn to or searching for?

    What do you realize you stand for again and again, regardless of circumstances? What values does this reflect that you hold? Once you’ve answered some of these questions, check to see if the career paths you’re considering would complement, jive with, or fall right in line with at least one of these things.

    5. Test out potential careers before jumping.

    A change as big as a career shift warrants some personal research. And according to professional research, humans are pretty terrible at predicting what will make us happy. We’ve simply got to test our ideas out.

    What if I told you that you could create some ways to test out potential career pivots before making them? Have you considered volunteer work? What about emailing every contact you have to ask if they know anyone working in the field who’d be willing to have a career curiosity call?

    Could you come up with a project that would allow you to test out/try out new skills? What about a job shadow day? Have you considered cold messaging someone via LinkedIn who works in that field?

    Whatever ideas you come up with will inevitably be better than simply jumping at your best guess. Get in there! Get creative. And get started on updating your life and career to match who you are today, not the person you were years ago when you created the life you’re still living now.

  • Lessons from a Late Bloomer Who Wanted to Be Famous

    Lessons from a Late Bloomer Who Wanted to Be Famous

    “You are not too old and it is not too late.” ~Unknown

    I’ve been indecisive since I was a child. When I was small, I wanted to be a ballet dancer. My parents even bought me a ballerina cake topper for one of my birthdays. As I grew a little older, I wanted to be a singer, which led me to go to a performing arts high school. I even learned how to read music notes and play a little piano during my time at that school.

    I believe my desire to be a singer was influenced by my experience being bullied in school. I wanted to feel loved and thought I could get that through becoming famous and gaining fans. This is behavior you’d expect from children, as they have such wild imaginations.

    I couldn’t make up my mind on what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I was certain that whatever career I had, it would be a successful one. I was excited about the day I would become a successful grownup.

    By the time I became a legal adult, however, I no longer wanted to be a dancer or singer. I have scoliosis, so that would have made it difficult for me to become a professional ballerina. Dancing was never really my talent anyway. And I don’t have a bad singing voice, but it’s not exactly professional singing material. I still enjoy singing every now and then, though.

    Despite letting go of my childhood dreams, I still wanted to be well known in some way. I just didn’t know how I was going to achieve this. It didn’t matter to me that I was unsure of what career I wanted to go into. I was still young and had time to decide. Time flies, though, and before I knew it, I was a grown adult, pushing forty years old.

    Being indecisive was cute and acceptable when I was a child, but I was a grown adult who was still undecided about her career. I wasn’t even a young adult anymore. I was definitely not where I thought I would be at this age, and I felt embarrassed.

    By forty, people are usually settled in their careers and have at least a few years of experience under their belts. Many celebrities start their careers early and are retired by forty. Even those who don’t retire around that age could retire if they wanted to, because they’ve earned so much.

    This is what I thought was in store for me. I thought by the time I hit twenty-one years old, I would be making a lot of money and helping my parents. With the way the cost of living has gone up, it was a stretch to think I could be so financially secure that young, but I thought for sure I would be there by forty.

    Today, I am still undecided about my career. I am still doing some soul-searching to figure out what I want to do with my life. And I often feel I’m too old to still be struggling with finding a career.

    Many of my peers have established careers already. This often makes me feel terrible about myself, but then I remind myself that I don’t need to be in the same place as my peers or any of the celebrities around my age.

    It’s okay if I don’t have my career figured out yet, and I know I’m not alone in working on and discovering myself later in life.

    One family member of mine loves art, and she does a lot of research on different famous artists. She often shares her research with me, and one particular artist stood out to me—the Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama.

    Yayoi Kusama was born in 1929. She started to receive a lot of attention for her art in the 1960s, but there was a new appreciation for her art in the 1980s. She started to receive even further recognition during the 2000s.

    Yayoi Kusama’s story shows that a person can become successful at any age, even in their older years. Her story is an example to everyone that it is never too late to live your dream.

    She’s not the only artist or celebrity to become successful in her older years.

    Judi Dench is a household name worldwide, but she only started acting on the big screen in her sixties.

    Comedian Lucille Ball started staring in her iconic show, I Love Lucy, in her forties.

    Morgan Freeman played the roles that turned him into a sought-after actor during his fifties.

    The late, critically acclaimed Toni Morrison published her first book, The Bluest Eye, at thirty-nine years old.

    Singer Susan Boyle became a viral sensation at the age of forty-seven thanks to her time on Britain’s Got Talent.

    Many celebrities found acclaim later in life, and their stories are inspiring to me. But I realize now that success doesn’t have to mean notoriety.

    There are lots of people out there who go back to school later in life and find new paths that bring them joy and meaning, enabling them to touch lives regularly.

    I personally have been dealing with depression, and my therapist has changed my life for the better. She is not world-renowned, but she gets fulfillment in life by helping people with mental illness.

    And though I don’t have a career I feel passionate about right now, I’m often told my smile is beautiful, and that it made someone’s day brighter. Maybe that’s its own kind of success.

    There is nothing wrong with fame or desiring it; however, I now know that becoming famous isn’t the only way to be successful and find purpose in life.

    I’m still discovering what my dream is and what I’m meant to do with my life. However, I’m realizing that is okay.

    I’m also realizing that success can mean different things to different people, and there is no timeline for finding passion or purpose.

    So, if you are a late bloomer like me, know that it’s okay. Don’t compare yourself to others. We all move at our own pace, and we all have our own unique path to meaning and making a difference.

  • Feeling Lost or Miserable? Your Heart Knows the Way Through

    Feeling Lost or Miserable? Your Heart Knows the Way Through

    “Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.” ~Rumi

    My tear-stained face stared back at me in the mirror. Every Sunday evening was the same. I was overcome with the dread of having to get up the next morning and go to a job that, while good on paper, was slowly sucking my soul. I was twenty-seven years old, and I was completely lost, spending my days doing work that didn’t light me up in any way or form.

    Until I was twenty-five, I had mostly followed my heart in life, doing things I loved that came easily to me—namely, a degree in Spanish and Portuguese, followed by a job teaching English in Japan for three years.

    At the age of twenty-six, I decided I needed to do something “more useful” than teaching languages, so I got a master’s degree in a business-related subject and landed myself the aforementioned soul-sucking corporate job.

    This was the first time I’d followed my head instead of my heart in life, and due to my deeply sensitive nature, it caused me a level of existential pain and darkness I’d never even imagined before.

    There was nothing wrong with the job itself: the people were (mostly) lovely, there were lots of fun, young folks, and we had a lively social life on the weekends. But getting up for work every morning with deep, whole-body dread for the day ahead and spending most of the day feeling like a fish out of water at the office were loud-and-clear messages that I was living out of alignment with my true self.

    However, the job was extremely sought-after and well-paid; I’d worked hard to get there, using most of my savings to pay for business school; and I could see no alternative career option for myself in the near future. I couldn’t just leave without a plan B. I felt completely stuck and deeply miserable.

    My Heart Knew the Way Out of the Darkness

    Luckily, my heart kept nudging me to find things that I loved to do, so I tried a variety of different activities, even if just to make me feel better.

    I knew exercise would help relieve the stress of my new job, so in the first months, I’d go for a 7 a.m. swim at the local pool, a few days a week, before I went to the office. It was an effort, but it boosted my mood and helped me start the day with a positive attitude.

    The job had meant a move to Swindon, a town far away from all my family and friends, so I joined a local women’s football team (soccer, for those of you in North America) to meet people outside of work. The training sessions gave me something to look forward to in the evenings.

    Now, I’m no great shakes as a footballer (understatement!), but running up and down a muddy footy pitch chasing after the ball on Sunday mornings with my teammates, come rain or shine, was just the tonic I needed to get me out of my slump.

    When an opportunity came up to take part in the London Marathon with a charity through work, I signed up immediately because I’ve always loved running and it had been a dream of mine since childhood to do the London Marathon.

    I trained with two guys from the office week after week in all weathers, and the endorphins, the camaraderie, and my improved fitness soon helped me to feel more like my cheery self again.

    These physical activities all got me out of my head and back into my body. They helped me make friends, and they uplifted me and silenced my negative mental chatter, turning my thoughts to more positive ones, which brightened my mood and my general outlook on life.

    The Importance of Dreaming Big

    During my first year in the job, in the depths of my what-the-eff-am-I-doing-here crisis, I met a woman who had been chosen to represent the company on a trip to The Gambia in West Africa. (Our company chose one person each year to visit its charity projects in developing countries.)

    When I asked her how she’d managed to get picked out of the 12,000-strong workforce, she told me, “You’d be surprised, Louisa. Most people think they won’t get chosen, so they don’t even apply.”

    There and then, I felt the spark of possibility ignite in me. I vowed I would apply to represent the company on its charity trip the next year, which turned out to be to Tamil Nadu in southern India.

    India had always had a special place in my heart, and I’d always wanted to visit the country with a meaningful reason for being there, not just as a tourist.

    Reader, I was picked! It was the trip of a lifetime and the realization of a dream I’d had since my teenage years. I participated in community groups in inner city slums and remote villages, visited water projects, helped build toilets, and generally learned about the charity’s work in the region.

    Back in Swindon, I still didn’t love my job, and that Sunday night dread cycle never completely disappeared, but slowly but surely, my feelings toward the company I was working for turned to gratitude and appreciation.

    I had chosen this job because it was a large, international company, in the hope that I’d eventually get to travel or work abroad and use my languages. My chances seemed pretty slim, as I was the world’s worst business analyst, and I still hadn’t kicked the fish-out-of-water feeling of being a linguist masquerading as a businessperson.

    But languages open doors that might otherwise remain closed, and after eighteen months of living and working in Swindon (with the sole—and wonderful—exception of my India trip), I finally got transferred to the international division, which meant six months in Paris followed by a two-year move to beautiful Madrid.

    I was now living in Spain, a country I loved, and using my language skills, but I knew I needed to escape the corporate world and find more fulfilling work that I was actually half-decent at.

    Be Clear on What You Want and the Path Will Appear

    The longer I worked in that job, the clearer one thing became to me—that it was of vital importance to me to find work I loved. The anguish of spending day after day doing work that was so far removed from my “zone of genius and joy” brought great clarity on that front, if nothing else.

    After I switched to the international division of the company, I spent plenty of time alone on flights and in hotel rooms in foreign cities, which was perfect for daydreaming up my next move. I started to make plans, and after two years in Madrid, I finally made my escape from the corporate world.

    I had no clear roadmap of what lay ahead, but I knew I had to follow my joy rather than be miserable doing work I didn’t love. I enrolled at a Spanish university and did postgraduate studies in subjects I was passionate about: Hispanic literature and teaching Spanish as a foreign language.

    In the third year of my postgrad studies, I found work teaching English at a Spanish university. Through the university, I fell into work as a freelancer, translating psychology articles for various university clients and academic journals, which I continue to do and love today. I also started bringing together my passion for writing, positive psychology, and languages to write self-led learning materials for language magazines and online publications.

    It’s been a meandering path, but my work has become more deeply fulfilling as the years have gone on. Recently, I’ve seen a dip in my main work, psychology translations, due to the improvements in translation technology. But twenty years of following my heart, not my head, have shown me that the path always appears, even when the future seems uncertain.

    I am staying focused on what I love and what I’m good at, and I am trusting the path will appear, as it always has. And I’m going to answer the following two questions in my journal to gain even more clarity on my heart’s desires going forward. Care to do this with me, dear reader?

    Question 1: Are you clear on what you want?

    Grab a pen and paper and jot down all the “impossible” dreams you’ve ever had. (They can be in any life area: work, love, family, travel, skills, fun, health, creativity, etc.) What does your heart truly desire?

    Now, just allow yourself to daydream a little. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it were possible for you to do some of those things, perhaps in the not-too-distant future, and maybe even all of them eventually?

    You may not know how they might possibly come to fruition, but if you don’t even allow yourself to daydream about the things that light you up, you can be sure as anything they won’t appear in your reality.

    Every great thing that was ever created once started off as an idea or a daydream, so don’t underestimate the importance of spending time on this.

    What tiny steps can you take in the direction of those big dreams? Can you take up a new hobby or volunteer in a different field? Sometimes just the satisfaction you get from taking action in the right direction can change your mood, and perhaps it will even open a door to a future opportunity you never thought possible.

    Question 2: Are you being the you-est you possible?

    Ever wondered what makes you you? Write down the answers to these questions, allowing your pen to write freely and express what your heart knows is true, even if you haven’t allowed yourself to reflect on these things for years (or perhaps even decades).

    What makes you come alive? What makes your heart sing? What could you do until the cows come home, even if no one paid you for it?

    If these questions are hard for you to answer, think back to your childhood self and who you were before adult obligations started to weigh you down and tell you who you should be. Journal on these things until you remember what it is you love and how you’re meant to be showing up in the world.

    Go Forth and Shine Your Unique Light

    Now go out there and be the you-est you possible, my darling. Follow your heart and allow the essence of you to shine through in your daily life, in big and little ways.

    Life is a precious gift, and we’re not here for very long. So take baby steps each day (or each week) to do more of what lights you up, and you will light up the world around you in ways you previously only dreamed of.

    Your heart knows the way, dear one. Get still and listen, then be sure to follow its whisperings.

    Now, what’s one step you can commit to doing this week to follow your heart and do more of what you love in life?

  • How I Found Purpose When I Lost It at Work

    How I Found Purpose When I Lost It at Work

    “The mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for.” ~Fyodor Dostoyevsky

    When I was in my last semester of college in 2016, I got my first paid job working in libraries as a children’s library assistant. I can remember the passion and sense of purpose I initially felt when taking this job. The idea that, every day, I’d be helping foster a love of reading in kids felt like a worthwhile career.

    Reading supports cognitive development in children. It enhances language skills and improves concentration. It encourages creativity and even fosters empathy, as it introduces children to worlds they otherwise would not know of. Suffice it to say, this seemed like the kind of career that would give me purpose, something I always looked for when selecting a career path.

    When I began working as a children’s assistant, I felt that sense of purpose. The library I worked at was big. There were kids constantly coming into the beautiful children’s room, with its high ceiling and numerous colorful shelves full of books. I eagerly tried to help each one find that one book that would spark excitement and, hopefully, a love of reading.

    I also got to run fun children’s programs, like a yoga class, a baking class, and a writing club. And I ran a story time for babies twice a week. Seeing the children enjoy these programs together, socialize, and view the library as a community place enhanced my sense of purpose. I was doing something meaningful, something that benefited the community.

    As time went on, I knew my end goal was to be a youth services librarian, not just an assistant. I knew in that position I could make the biggest difference. I would be the one in charge of the children’s and teen departments, and the books and programs each one offered. I started applying for these positions until finally I got offered one.

    Going into this job, my sense of purpose was strong. I was excited at all the possibilities open to me with these new responsibilities. I was ready for this next step.

    And for the first couple months, things were great.

    The library had no director. Instead, there were two employees acting as co-interim directors. The library was very small. We all got along, though, and helped each other out.

    However, a new director was eventually hired, and I quickly realized we didn’t mesh well. She was a micromanager, and I felt very limited and restricted by her. She also followed her own agenda and even censored the books I put out to meet her own beliefs. This goes against the library systems belief of intellectual freedom and was a huge red flag to me.

    There were many days when I came home crying, and my anxiety skyrocketed. I even passed out once at work due to the level of stress I was experiencing. I wanted to quit, but knew I needed to find a new job first. Every day, I felt sick going into work. My sense of purpose of working in libraries with children was fading.

    There was one day in particular that sent that sense of purpose crumbling. There was a preschool above the library, and the kids were scheduled to come down to the library for a story time. I remember feeling anxious about this, as I’d never done a story time for such a large group of kids before. However, I had always felt I did well conducting my story times in the past, so I used this to ease my anxiety.

    The kids came down and I gave it my all. I ended up having a great time reading to them. Yes, they were a big group, but they seemed engaged with the story, and I finished feeling certain I’d done a good job.

    My boss, however, felt differently. She berated my story time, telling me I didn’t engage the kids at all. She then proceeded to show me a video she took of my story time and began pointing out everything she felt I’d done poorly.

    I can take constructive criticism, but what she was doing was anything but constructive. She didn’t like my book choices, my song choices, my interaction with the kids. She then started putting down my personality, saying I’m too quiet and not cut out for this position.

    I felt destroyed. Something I’d once felt great purpose doing no longer felt that way. I suddenly felt I wasn’t cut out for this job. I started severely doubting my abilities.

    Eventually, I got a new job, again as a youth services librarian. I am still currently at this job, and things have improved. I have a director who is fair, and there are days when I feel a sense of joy, such as when I run a fun and successful program or help a child find a book that they are excited about reading. However, that sense of purpose I once felt regularly as an assistant is not often there.

    For this reason, I decided to begin looking for that sense of purpose elsewhere, such as in hobbies outside of work like writing and art. These things never fail to evoke a sense of purpose in me when I do them. I get in a state of flow when writing or painting, and I feel a sense of purpose in the creative process.

    My ultimate goal with writing and creating art is that, upon completion, I will have something unique and beautiful to share with the world. The idea of others reading or seeing my work and connecting with it gives me a reason to create. Life, to me, is all about connection.

    I’ve also found purpose in my relationships. Fostering my relationships is one of the most important things in my life. I have a wonderful circle of family and friends, and enriching my relationship with them gives me purpose. Without relationships, life is lonely. The people in my life I am closest to have helped shape who I am as a person. They challenge me to be the best version of myself.

    Since knowing my husband, for example, I have grown as a person in many ways, and fostering the love we have is so important to me because sharing my life with him gives it meaning. I also find purpose in being there for my loved ones and supporting them when they need me.

    My dog gives me purpose too. Taking care of her gives me a reason to get up in the morning. I need to feed her and walk her and, above all, love her.

    I don’t feel the same purpose I once felt at work. That’s not to say I’ll never feel it again. In time, hopefully it will come back. What losing my sense of purpose in work, though, has taught me is that purpose doesn’t exist solely in a job.

    There are other forms of purpose outside of work like hobbies, family and friends, and pets. Purpose can come from many places. You just have to be willing to open yourself up to these different possibilities.

  • How I Found the Courage to Leave My Unfulfilling Job

    How I Found the Courage to Leave My Unfulfilling Job

    “‘What if I fall?’ Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?” –Erin Hanson

    Have you ever considered how much you’d be willing to tolerate before feeling forced to leave a workplace?

    In this economy, people wonder whether leaving their jobs to preserve their mental and physical health without another lined up is worth it if it means financial insecurity. So many people feel stuck in their jobs, and I was no exception.

    I told myself any money was better than no money, so I stayed with a job that made me miserable.

    After spending several years with the company, I thought I should’ve been paid more than what I was getting, but I lacked the confidence to bring it up to my boss.

    Also, the working environment grew hostile over time. I thought I had no room for error—it all had to be perfect. I had to get it all right on the first try without asking questions, or else I would feel like my job was at risk.

    I say it was my thinking because that’s important to differentiate—how you feel about a situation versus what others tell you to feel. Everyone has their own perceptions and feelings, but when you feel uncomfortable in a specific role, you have to ask yourself: Do I need to change, or does my workplace need to change?

    Or do I need to walk away from it entirely?

    I had to ask myself: How badly do I want to change? Will it alter my experience at work?

    After confronting myself, I had to recognize whether I felt comfortable confronting my boss about my feelings. Would it have the outcome I wanted? Would it assist my co-workers or future employees in their journeys? Even more important, was I willing to put myself out there for the chance of something different happening?

    Next, I had to consider my own feelings. I tend to avoid confrontation because it often isn’t worth the anxiety it brings. It’s disheartening when no talks yield the result you want.

    So I had to think to myself, and it took a while for me to decide the answer. Did anything make me want to stay at the job, even if the discussion wasn’t fruitful?

    Ultimately, I decided to stay at my workplace. While I didn’t thoroughly enjoy what my workplace offered, I loved what I did. I stayed because I felt like I was making a difference.

    Things were fine for a while—especially once I accepted that “it is what it is.” My supervisor showed me empathy often, but I was still uncertain of their reaction if I addressed that the company culture didn’t work for me.

    Unfortunately, ignoring the problem went exactly as you might think. It didn’t make things easier for me.

    If I could go back in time, I would make different choices. The confrontation may have been worth the potential opportunity to open my employer’s eyes. Standing by only ensured things remained the same.

    Were I to do it again, I would approach my boss with an open mind and an honest heart. In my experience, employers value honesty about certain situations, and my supervisor was more than willing to help me with solutions.

    Still, I always feel nervous when approaching a supervisor because I worry they won’t take me seriously. If I could go back, I would go in with a plan and substantial evidence to support my claims. Having the proof to show something was amiss might have influenced my boss more than my anxious words alone.

    However, looking back on it, it could have been just as likely that my concerns were ignored or dismissed. I’ll never know because I didn’t take the chance for myself. I wish I had—it might have made the decision to leave even easier.

    Over time, I let the problems build and eventually snowball into something much worse—something that affected my self-esteem and my ability to perform well at work. I suffered greatly.

    With over 60% of people saying they’re less productive at jobs they aren’t happy at, I realized I was in good company. It wasn’t a problem with me; I just wasn’t a great fit for this job. I was the puzzle piece that got mixed up in the wrong box, my true purpose lying elsewhere.

    Unfortunately, these issues made me feel even more hopeless. Was there even a point to working? Did the good money I was making justify the environment that made me feel uncomfortable and unsettled all the time?

    Only I could answer those questions for myself, but I did look to my loved ones for guidance. I asked my family and friends what they would do in my situation. Really, I just wanted some form of reassurance that I was doing the right thing.

    Everyone I talked to agreed I should leave my workplace. They’d seen my mental state deteriorate over time and listened to my lamentations. When stress gets to you, it makes you do funny things, including questioning whether obvious decisions are the right ones.

    You are not weak for wanting to remove yourself from a toxic situation.

    Those words took me a while to process, but they’re true. I wouldn’t get a badge of honor for being mistreated at work. People don’t look at several hours of overtime as something to admire anymore.

    It wasn’t worth it. Many workers are putting themselves first. I wish I would have, instead of wasting months before finally leaving the job.

    My mental health mattered. I thought the money was worth it, but that was the only thing holding me back—and I should’ve found another job to serve that purpose. No money will ever make up for a job that hurts my mental health, robbing me of my time and leaving me burnt out beyond belief.

    Looking back, the slippery slope to a lack of self-care happened faster than I knew. I poured more of myself into work, leaving less time for my own needs, and I chose to ignore my hygiene for late nights at the office. I skipped meals and sleep to ensure I met every deadline and still had some time for myself at the end of a demanding day.

    Not every job would drain me the same way. I only realized that after some time of reflection.

    For every bad boss, there are several good bosses. I’ve had supervisors who encouraged me to speak my mind and clearly valued my viewpoint. Though it took some time, I found an environment I belonged in.

    As I healed from my past job and worked to improve my self-esteem, I realized boundaries are essential. I didn’t need to do anything outside of my job description and reminded myself it was okay not to want to work long hours. Having the luxury to say no to more work isn’t something everyone is afforded, but it’s a right everyone should have.

    Not everyone will be in the privileged position I was to step away from a job that was actively hurting me. I was fortunate to be able to heal and identify my worth for a period after I left it, before I was ready to search for a new job. Many folks don’t have the same luxury, as their salary might be the only income for their household.

    One of the worst things about a toxic work environment is just how hard it is to make that first step away. Taking that step, even when unsure where you’ll land, is likely to be worth it.

    For some, that’s taking time off, even if just a little, to find something better. For others, that might be opting for another job—perhaps one not even in the same field—to make ends meet rather than continuing to waste away at their current job. Every job is as temporary as you need it to be.

    This can even be as simple as putting out a first new application. Not everyone can take that leap away from a rotten position without a backup plan in place, but that doesn’t mean they’re without hope. It all just depends on taking that first step.

    There is that turning point, though, and I knew it the moment I hit it. What would my loved ones do if I made myself mentally or physically sick working for a company that didn’t value me? There is only one me.

    I’m not irreplaceable to any workplace. There will always be someone else with a similar set of skills that can take over for me if I leave my job.

    My advice to my past self would be always to look for the job you feel fulfilled in. Too many people go to work depressed and come home burnt out. You may be just another number to a lousy job, but think of how much you matter to your loved ones. There’s only one you.

    Being overworked is the leading stressor among employees. I’m still looking for the best ways to manage my stress, but I’ve actually made it a priority now. With less stress, I’ll also reduce my risk for chronic diseases and ensure I have time for myself whenever I need it.

    One thing I learned was to prioritize myself, especially since I had the privilege of being able to leave my job. I could run fast and far from a situation that hurt me. Thanks to that, I could preserve myself and save people from worrying about my health more than they already did.

    I was the only one who could have made that decision for myself. The “turning point” moment was all I needed to seek out better opportunities. I deserved more than putting myself through unimaginable stress in a subpar working environment, and realizing that was when it all changed for me.

    When the time was right, I found a new job.

    I felt refreshed and ready to tackle any challenge. I felt valued and celebrated by my new team. It made me realize I really deserve to be happy in what I do every day, and it was time I reminded myself of what that feeling was like.

  • How I Found a Beautiful Purpose by Giving Up the Search

    How I Found a Beautiful Purpose by Giving Up the Search

    “You and your purpose in life are the same thing. Your purpose is to be you.” ~George Alexiou

    We all play a pivotal role in society. But I’ve toyed with the New Age spiritual notion that we all have a unique purpose on Earth to fulfill—a purpose for which we have chosen to be here.

    I used to wonder if I could only be happy if I found this one resounding and elusive purpose.

    If I knew my soul’s purpose, I believed my life would suddenly have endless meaning and vitality. Once I found my purpose, I would leap out of bed every morning and dance around the kitchen, singing as I made my morning coffee. Because my soul had found its purpose, I’d have everlasting joy and fulfillment.

    So, like so many before me, I started to seek. Seek, search, and seek some more. Years and years of it. Countless sleepless nights. Thousands of the same personality quizzes and career quizzes. “What should I do with my life?” quizzes. Can anyone else relate, or was this just me?!

    On top of this, I was dissecting my astrology natal chart. Calculating my life path number in numerology. Doing a million courses to kickstart my new life.

    It was exhausting and relentless.

    And can I tell you what I found after years of seeking, questioning, fumbling, stumbling, searching, forming realizations, and having epiphanies? I found immense confusion. 

    And you know what happens when one domino falls? That small, single impact creates a river of destruction, consuming everything else in its path.

    So, in innocently seeking meaning and purpose, I ended up finding severe, debilitating anxiety. Month-long panic attacks. I was brutally wounded by depression. I felt deep pangs of loneliness and helplessness, and I also developed a constant need to know how everything in my life would turn out.

    There were nights when I prayed that I would fall asleep and never wake up again because I felt helpless, unimportant, and utterly useless. I felt like I had failed at life. Failed at being a human. I couldn’t find a purpose or meaning in life, so why should I be here? I didn’t deserve to be here.

    I constantly needed to seek more answers, read more self-help books, do more “find your purpose” workshops, and hire more life coaches to gain more qualifications. I developed an incessant need to find what I was supposed to be doing with my life. Because I felt entirely worthless and inherently unlovable without it.

    Why could I just not find happiness or joy? Why could I not see this one thing I was supposed to do in my lifetime?

    I was seventeen when I discovered the spiritual self-help path. All the crystals, the angel’s cards, and the yoga community felt so good back then. It felt like a secret, magical, alternative world I had found.

    However, now, after ten years of going down this route, I sometimes wonder if it’s brought me more harm than good.

    I missed out on a massive chunk of my life when I could have been going with the flow, allowing my life to naturally unfold. Instead, I became paralyzed by and obsessed with this notion of finding purpose and meaning in my life.

    Then one day a coach asked me why I needed to keep searching. What did she mean “NEEDED to”?!

    It hadn’t occurred to me that this was all a choice. I thought it was something I was obliged to find.

    I realized that my need to obsessively devour information about my identity and my purpose was actually an attempt to cover a huge, gaping wound.

    The wound that said, “I am not worthy as I am; I am not enough as I am. I am not lovable as I am.”

    *Mic Drop*

    This realization touches a deep chord inside most of the human population. It is drilled into us from childhood that we must achieve, do, create, and pursue to be worthy.

    Whether that’s the dream body, the dream job, the dream car, or the dream house. Taking X amount of vacations or having Y number of children.

    Society today is like a tug of war. We are pulled in every direction. Told that every choice available is right and wrong. 

    “Get this latest electric car; gas is out of date. You’ve got to go to college to be successful. No, don’t; be an entrepreneur and start a business instead. Every body is a bikini body… but you’re lazy if you don’t work out at the gym. Get married young and have kids before it’s too late! Actually, wait until you are older and wiser until you settle down. Travel the world, but save all your money. Invest as early as you can to prepare for the future. But also, life is short; we could all die tomorrow, so always live today like it’s your last!”

    AHHHHHHH!

    And we wonder why we are living in an age of confusion!

    Finding our own truth and unique pathway in this society is the hardest thing we can do.

    That’s why so many people are being roped into this fantasy that we will be happy once we achieve all these things, including finding a purpose. The purpose is another thing we can reach to make us feel fulfilled.

    I realized I was trying to put a plaster on a wound the size of the gap between two tectonic plates.

    I decided that instead of continuing to search, I would give up on everything I’d been following for the past ten years. It was scary. This path was all I had ever walked down. What did it mean to stop seeking? What would I do if I didn’t need to find a purpose? Would I be lost? Would I feel fulfilled? Would life have no meaning, or maybe would I just melt into fragments of my own self-loathing for giving up?

    Despite all this fear and uncertainty, I knew it was my only option.

    I was tired. My nervous system was fried, my brain was scrambled, and I was done. I was just fully done.

    So I decided to stop paying my life savings to coaches and doing every course and qualification I could find. I stopped reading self-help books. I stopped fretting about everything that I put in my body. I just started doing whatever I wanted to do. It was the most liberating thing I’ve ever done. 

    Most importantly, I stopped listening to anyone else telling me what I should or shouldn’t be doing. The only opinion that mattered was my own.

    Slowly but surely, within this liberation, I started to find some peace. A peace I hadn’t fully experienced before regarding the direction of my life. I started becoming more open to allowing life to naturally unfold. Allowing opportunities and ideas to present themselves as and when I was ready.

    Obviously, I am human, and I am still very much on my everlasting healing journey. There are so many days when I still try to control, grasp, and plan the future and make everything less uncertain. However, once you start to embrace uncertainty, you can look forward to the unknown because you realize that uncertain things aren’t always negative things. In fact, uncertainty can be exciting.

    If we knew everything we needed to know, there would be nothing left to explore.

    What if the purpose of it all was to get to know yourself? Build yourself. Strengthen yourself. Cultivate a human being you are proud of. Or just a human being that you love and are compassionate toward.

    And I don’t mean proud of what you own or do. Proud of who you are. Do you like yourself as a human being? Where is there room for improvement? Are you kind? Do you listen carefully when others speak? Are you patient or gracious? Do you have or want to build a relationship with God/the universe/the divine?

    These are the huge life questions we could be asking ourselves. These things give us more self-love and purpose than anything else. And best of all, it’s sustainable and everlasting. These things can’t be taken away from us once cultivated.

    What if the purpose of every human life was just to have a human life?

    What if our purpose is just to be here? Now. As we are. Experiencing the full spectrum of the human experience. 

    The joy, the grief, the pain, the peace, the sadness, anger, and happiness, the laughs and the cries, the profound pain of grieving the loss of a loved one when your heart feels like it will explode out of your chest and paint the world in darkness. To feel the joys and tummy-rupturing combined with howling cackles of laughter shared between friends.

    Being human is to feel. And to love and to express.

    What if the sole purpose of us being here is to experience that fully?

    This isn’t found in buying your dream car or house, but it can be if you want it to. It’s not necessarily found in a career or traveling the world, but it can be that if you want it too!

    That’s the beauty of this life! You can do whatever you want to do! And you should.

    If that means working as little as possible and devoting time to your hobbies, then do it. If that’s striving to become the next billionaire, then do it.

    But remember to experience being human on the way.

    Don’t forget that the only satisfaction you’ll get in life is when you befriend and master your internal world.

    I started journaling around this topic and asking myself questions that drew out who I wanted to be in this life. Here are four statements and questions that have helped me. 

    1. Change the question from “What do I want to DO in this life?” to “Who do I want to BE in this life?” It’s a simple but profound alteration.

    2. Change “What is my purpose?” to “Do I want to impact the world while I’m in it? If yes, what cause means the most to me, and how can I make a little contribution?” Maybe you join an activist group or start signing petitions.

    3. Ask yourself where you would go and what you would do if you were unlimited. The answer here indicates your true pleasures and enjoyments. Try incorporating more of them into your life if you can.

    4. What would you do if you could do any job in the world? Or if money were no issue, how would you live your life? How would you fill your days? Most people think they would lie on a beach all day drinking. But I promise you, day in and day out, that gets old really fast.

    So spend time really thinking about this. What would you actually do? What would you want to do with all that spare time? This indicates what you would be doing if you didn’t let limiting beliefs get in the way and shows you what you would choose to do if you had time and freedom.

    —

    My personal answers to these questions were to spend time in nature. Be with animals at a sanctuary and travel the world volunteering. Learn all about new cultures and study philosophy and esoteric topics.

    I realized I had to realign my life. I didn’t have to seek something external. I needed to alter the train tracks of my life so that it was pointing to my north star again.

    No pressure, no more seeking. No more searching (in this context). However, I do love to learn, read, and study.

    But by giving everything up and rejecting all that I thought I ‘should be,’ I found my way home to the things I already am.

    They are simple, humble, and honest. I no longer feel I need to change the world to be worthy of love. Or achieve huge, great milestones to be seen as successful.

    Doing the simple, little things that make life worth living does the job and is already more than enough.

    These things may grow and change with me as I evolve. And that’s wonderful. Purpose is not a fixed destination. Purpose is a journey; you carry it with you, and it changes as you grow and change.

    All you need to do is check your internal compass on where you want to go next.

  • 4 Things to Try When You Want Change but Don’t Know What to Do

    4 Things to Try When You Want Change but Don’t Know What to Do

    “If you get stuck, draw with a different pen. Change your tools; it may free your thinking.” ~Paul Arden

    For a year and a half, I could feel a career shift coming. I had worked hard to cultivate a career I loved, but I began feeling disconnected from my work. The meaning I had originally felt from it was no longer there. Each time I started a new project, I felt tired and unmotivated.

    At first, I thought it might be burnout. So I took a few weeks off to see if I could reset myself into feeling excited about my work again. But when I returned, I felt the same. The things that I had built my career around, that previously gave me energy and meaning, no longer resonated.

    I thought about the type of work I did daily and couldn’t imagine myself still doing it ten years from now. But what could I imagine myself doing? I had no idea.

    I struggled and strived to figure out what a career shift might look like. I read several books, including Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life by James Hollis (Ph. D.), but while I resonated with the ideas in several of them, I still felt no closer to an answer.

    I became very intentional about noticing when things gave me energy. At one point, I went to a dinner party where someone brought tarot cards and gave me a reading. It was so energizing! I went home and immediately ordered the same set of tarot cards. I began learning about them and started doing readings with friends and at parties.

    “What does this mean? Should I become a tarot card reader?” I thought. But that didn’t resonate for a variety of reasons.

    By this point, I was telling everyone who would listen that I was “directionless.” It was a new label I used often. When someone asked what I did for work, I would say, “Meh, I’m directionless.”

    Well-meaning friends and acquaintances started offering their opinions of what I should be doing next. I even googled, “How to make a career change.” I felt like I was walking around in a black fog where I could barely make out what was ahead of me. Sometimes I could see a slight shape—a glimmer of something that gave me energy. But what did it mean? And how could I use that information for what was next?

    I went through a cross-country move to a location where I had no friends. Because of this, I had more time to myself than usual. I spent each day going inward and connecting to my body through meditation, simple somatic practices, like stimulating my vagus nerve, and parts work.

    Finally, I realized that the answer was never in my head. It was in my body—wisdom that had been blocked by all the thoughts and old beliefs that had formed, and parts of me that wanted to protect me and keep me safe.

    I found that a part of me didn’t want a career change because it was too scary and unstable. Instead, it wanted to stay with what was known, dependable, and safe. I befriended this part and worked through the fears. As I spent more and more time going inward, the answer appeared clearer and clearer. It had been there all along, and finally, I was able to access it.

    If you’re feeling stuck, here are a few things to try.

    1. Identify parts that may be trying to tell you something.

    If you are feeling stuck, there may be a “part” of you that is keeping you there to protect you. These parts are often created during childhood when we might not have had as many resources as we do now.

    For example, maybe you learned during childhood that being seen by others can be unpredictable and dangerous. So a “part” of you could have been created that helped you make decisions based on that information. Now, as an adult, you likely have more resources, but that information never got to the “part” that was created.

    So, let’s say that you want to write a book and you just can’t seem to move forward. No matter what you do, you’re staying stuck. Why? One reason might be because this “part” knows that if you write a book, you will be seen by others, and based on experience, that can be unpredictable and dangerous. So it prevents you from stepping out and taking risks where you might be seen. You may not even be aware of this part consciously. Yet it could be there, working day and night to protect you.

    2. Meditate.

    Being stuck can sometimes prompt negative thoughts, such as “What if I’m stuck forever?” or “I’m not good enough.” These thoughts can then lead to negative emotions, which can then make us feel even more stuck and overwhelmed. It’s a vicious cycle. Meditation can help you break out of this cycle and receive clarity, which can help you find direction and move forward.

    Set a time each day to meditate. It doesn’t need to be that long—even just ten minutes is enough. If you have trouble sitting silently, you could search for a guided meditation on YouTube.

    Make it part of your routine and do it at the same time each day to keep momentum going. Doing it at the same time each day will help it become part of a habit and make it easier to remember.

    If you start thinking while you’re sitting silently, that’s okay! Just come back to your breath. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to cultivate some stillness and silence. This practice helps you drop out of your mind and into your body, where so much wisdom lives.

    3. Stimulate your vagus nerve.

    Your vagus nerve regulates your entire nervous system. When your vagus nerve is activated, it helps calm your nervous system, which helps shift you into a more creative, open state of being. It is from this state that you can more easily access wisdom within yourself.

    There are a variety of ways to stimulate your vagus nerve. Because the vagus nerve is connected to your vocal cords, humming or singing is one way to achieve this:

    1. Focus on your breath and notice anything you feel in your body. Maybe you feel pressure on your chest, a pain in your neck, a burning in your throat, etc.
    2. Breathe in deeply.
    3. As you exhale, say “Voo” out loud for the entire length of the exhale.
    4. Sit and notice how your body is feeling now. Is there any difference?
    5. Continue steps two through four until you feel a shift.

    4. Change your environment.

    Have you ever taken a trip to a new place or gone on a great hike and felt a sense of renewed inspiration, clarity, or presence? The reason for this is because we grow when we’re out of our comfort zone.

    Being in a new environment, meeting new people, and having new experiences takes us out of our comfort zone, opens our minds, and provides us with the opportunity to grow and learn more about ourselves. It shakes things up from our normal day-to-day experiences.

    Get out into nature or go on an overnight getaway. It doesn’t need to be something fancy—anything that will get you out of your current space can help shift the stuckness.

    Is there an area of your life where you feel stuck or don’t know what to do? Which of these actions most resonates with you? Or, do you have an action you typically take that works best?

  • 5 Ways to Explore the World and Feel Excited About Life

    5 Ways to Explore the World and Feel Excited About Life

    “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So, throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”  ~Mark Twain

    In 2022, I wanted to quit my job and didn’t know why. I was about to embark on a six-week trip to a country I’d always wanted to visit—New Zealand—to work in sports TV production. I loved the people I worked with, the company I worked for, and the buzz I got from live TV. Still, it wasn’t enough. I needed to explore these feelings further.

    That word “exploration” was the key. It took me back to 2004, when I was in a hostel in Laguna Beach, an eighteen-year-old girl travelling alone. When I was growing up, I didn’t want to follow the traditional route of going to university just to find a corporate job, climb the career ladder, and retire with a good pension. The perfect path for many was not an option that excited me.

    I was travelling around the U.S. West Coast, hoping to find adventure and opportunities, but I knew I’d need to start seriously thinking about my future and next steps when I returned to London.

    I sat on Huntington Beach and spent some time thinking about what I wanted my life to look like. I wanted to work for a reputable company that could offer me travel opportunities. I couldn’t identify what I wanted to do with any precision, but I knew that was a good starting place.

    A few days later, on July 7, I was awakened in the early morning by a fellow Brit who informed me that terrorists had just attacked London. For the rest of the day, I was glued to the BBC, watching the tragedy unfold. In between the journalism, adverts depicted BBC correspondents working all over the world, and that’s when I thought the BBC might be the company for me.

    Several months later, I returned to London and applied to be a production team assistant for a BBC sister company. To my astonishment, I got the job. I was so excited! A new job, new people, and new opportunities.

    During my first week, I overheard my boss speaking on the phone with a friend in the BBC Sport division. She was preparing to travel to Germany to spend six weeks working on the FIFA World Cup. My mind exploded. That was the job I yearned for. I wanted to work in sports and travel to the most spectacular events on earth.

    I asked my boss if she could find out whom I could contact to get a foot in the door in that department. It wasn’t straightforward, but after several attempts and emails to their senior production manager, I was asked to come in for a coffee and informal chat.

    Fast forward eighteen years. I’ve travelled the globe to work on the biggest sporting events, from World Cups in South Africa and Brazil to the London Olympics, Euros in Poland and Ukraine, umpteen Formula 1 and Formula E races on five continents, sailing regattas off the coasts of Australia and the US, cricket in the Caribbean and New Zealand. And that’s just a partial list.

    Travel has shaped my life in so many ways. It has impacted my outlook on life, perspectives, relationships, and goals. It has taken me out of my comfort zone time and time again and allowed me to be inspired by new things.

    I have loved my job and still do, mostly, to this day. So it was a surprise to me when I felt the urge to hand in my notice.

    Truth be told, throughout my career, I’ve always been restless. I have consistently sought out new opportunities within the framework of my role. I’ve moved between companies, permanent contracts, temporary contracts, and freelancing. I’ve trained to become a teacher, left TV to work on sports documentaries, returned to TV, become a tutor as a side job, and set up my own business.

    It wasn’t that I was unhappy in TV production. I just love exploring and presenting myself with new learning environments. That eighteen-year-old in me who never wanted to follow the common path society can push us down still lives within me. And I wouldn’t change her for the world. If I’d never explored different paths, I never would have had the courage to create a lifestyle around my passions, purpose, and skills.

    Exploration is one of the greatest purposes of humankind. Everything we know about the world comes from those who explored before us. Discoveries in medicine, science, technology, religion, geography, space, and philosophy have changed the world for the better. They have led to greater equality of race and gender, alleviation of poverty, advances in health and education, tolerance and peace, and preservation of the environment.

    The world is constantly changing and developing because of our need to explore and continue learning, growing, creating, building, making, connecting, debating, and trying new things.

    So, if you’re feeling stuck and want more fulfilment in your day-to-day, it might be helpful to remember there’s a whole world out there to discover. Our time on Earth is finite. Life should be lived, explored, and enjoyed. Through exploration, you might just stumble across that sweet spot that lights you up and creates a new path for your future.

    Here are three reasons why I believe exploring and discovering new opportunities could be the recipe for a more fulfilled life:

    1. Exploration is a natural requirement for humanity.

    It is as necessary as warmth, love, food, and shelter. Exploration has been the driving force behind humankind since the dawn of time because it is at the centre of everything we do. We explore everything we do from the moment we are born through play, travel, work, speaking, writing, experimenting, singing, and interacting with each other. Let alone the preciousness of exploring the world through the eyes of our children.

    From religion to literature, politics to science, and design to philosophy, we are constantly asking questions and searching for new ways to develop our minds and abilities. There is no end to exploration. It is the driving force behind our survival as a race.

    2. Exploration creates more self-awareness, which I believe is a critical aspect of meaningful living.

    It allows people to understand their strengths, weaknesses, and areas for growth. By becoming more self-aware, you can gain a deeper understanding of your passions, values, and goals, and can make more intentional choices about how you live your life.

    3. Exploration inspires us and gives us hope for a better future.

    There is a vast world outside waiting to be explored. It offers adventures to be experienced, endless possibilities, stories to be created, and dreams waiting to come true.

    Having a curious and hungry mind allows you to discover goals and options that will bring you more fulfilment and happiness. You can chase your dreams with the comfort of knowing that it’s possible to understand almost anything. By constantly learning, you see what’s possible for yourself and others and alter your perspective of the world.

    Exploration doesn’t have to involve big steps such as quitting your job, moving countries, or travelling the world seeking adventure. Instead, we can seek exploration in our every day, and the good news is there are plenty of opportunities to explore and seek purpose wherever you are in life.

    Here are five ways you can implement exploration into your everyday lifestyle immediately.

    1. Look at your passions and interests and find a way to get more involved in them.

    Whatever interests you—art, animals, baking, singing, decorating, driving, teaching, embroidery, music, or sports to name a few—find a way to go and explore how to implement this into your daily or weekly routine.

    This could be interning, volunteering your time, picking up a book, subscribing to a podcast, emailing someone who is successful in that field, or taking a class. Getting involved in this area will open up your creative channels. The key is to allow yourself permission and time to experiment.

    2. Be spontaneous and get out of the humdrum routine and predictability of your daily life.

    Play a different radio station on your way to work, choose a brand new restaurant or cuisine on the weekend, walk a different route around your park, order something completely different off the menu, or choose a different vegetable to cook with each week. There are always surprises and fascinations in store for us if we are open to exploring new ways; we never know what we will discover.

    3. Connect with new like-minded people.

    You never know what conversation might spark a new thought or perspective. You can find inspiration from one word, a smile, or an interaction that can change your outlook on a situation. For example, buying from a local business instead of a corporate chain allows you to get to know the owner and the story behind their product. Their story might just inspire your exploration journey.

    4. Even if you can’t pack a suitcase and fly to far-off destinations, that doesn’t mean you can’t transport your mind to them.

    Movies, documentaries, TV shows, and books can all transport you into new worlds and cultures. Next time you settle down with a good book or in front of the TV, why not choose a new genre and be open to learning new things?

    5. Your clothes are one way to show the world what you stand for and who you are.

    Fashion has a huge impact on your mindset, mood, and confidence. Experiment with different clothing, mix and match what you already have, and play around with what makes you feel most confident so you’ll want to get out in the world and explore.

    —

    We can open the door to exploration in everyday life. After all, the reason for your exploration is not to discover your life’s purpose. The purpose of your life is to live it!

    Exploration is a continuous journey toward self-improvement and personal growth that allows you to live a life that is fulfilling and meaningful to you. Don’t give up on exploring what you want and pursuing your dreams. Your life is what you make it, and it’s worth trying to make it what you want it to be. So go! Explore and discover. Embrace the journey and enjoy the ride!

  • Workaholics: Why Staying Busy Feels Safe and How It Takes a Toll

    Workaholics: Why Staying Busy Feels Safe and How It Takes a Toll

    “The ego desperately wants safety. The soul wants to live. The truth is, we cannot lead a real life without risk. We do not develop depth without pain.” ~Carol S. Pearson

    Workaholism is the body’s wisdom in action, literally.

    Some people develop workaholic tendencies because they crave to be seen as the best through their accomplishments.

    But I’m not here to talk about people who’re obsessed over their image.

    The particular strain of “workaholism” that isn’t talked about enough is a perfectionist’s addiction to productivity.

    It has little to do with being recognized for your brilliance or achievements in the outer world, and much more to do with your own unattainably high standards for yourself and others.

    It’s not about winning a shiny trophy at the end of the day so everyone will know you’re the real deal, but knowing that you’ve improved yourself, others, or the environment around you–even if it’s just neurotically reorganizing your closet.

    It’s knowing that you made the world a better place and that you didn’t cut any corners to get there.

    Whether it’s your career, community projects, or personal to-do lists that consume your everyday life, your addiction to activity is problematic for many reasons. Once you get a dose of completing a job, an impulsive urge to drown yourself in more activity immediately creeps in. Without it, you experience a profound sense of worthlessness.

    You struggle with accepting your work as it is, and your inner critic never settles for okay enough.

    This kind of “improvement” workaholism is about self-worth and a felt sense of safety. Because idleness feels unsafe in the body of a workaholic, non-activity is misconstrued as uselessness, which feels like a gaping hole in your beingness. The wisdom of a workaholic’s body knows that not creating, producing, or improving oneself or the environment is on par with being an unlovable sack of garbage.

    So your body keeps you busy.

    Addiction to activity shows up in myriad ways. Doing your coworker’s job for them because they’re not meeting your standards. Working long hours to perfect a project that you logically know doesn’t need to be perfect. Cleaning the house when it’s not dirty. Pouring more energy than is necessary into helping your kids with their homework. An inability to rest, relax, or experience pleasure unless it’s “earned”–and even then, it’s a fleeting and rare occurrence.

    When the Body Goes to War

    My workaholic perfectionism took a toll on my body starting in my mid-twenties. It’s common for people fixated on perfectionism and activity to chronically hold tension in their bodies. I was so armored in my muscles that I injured my neck from stiffness, leading to some of the worst pain I’ve ever had.

    I was living in rural Japan at the time. Desperate for help, I drove forty-five minutes through snowy conditions down a country road to see specialists who spoke no English, and to this day I have no idea what their area of specialty is called–I’ve never seen it anywhere else. But they treated me in their home on a regular basis to bring me the relief I needed to keep my sanity.

    And that was just the beginning.

    From that point onward, I continued to injure my neck several times a year. After returning to the U.S., I saw chiropractors, physical therapists, and massage therapists on a recurring basis. They certainly treated my symptoms, but I didn’t understand why I was so chronically rigid and injury-prone.

    And then came the injury that changed the course of my life.

    In my early thirties, I developed tendonitis and a repetitive motion injury in my right arm from using the computer in my office job. I worked hard, perfecting every task, email, and spreadsheet that came across my desk. I continued to hold tension in my body, and I rarely took breaks. Desperate to keep working despite the pain in my right arm, I compensated with my left arm and injured it too.

    Different parts of my body were at war with each other–one part guilting me to stay in the hustle cycle, another part sending smoke signals to get me to slow down and rest.

    I ended up on disability for eight months.

    I struggled to take care of myself. Bathing, cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry were no longer feasible. I could not hold open a book to read. It took months to be able to return to normal activities. For someone who’s historically been addicted to staying busy, it was a nightmare to not be able to work per doctor’s orders.

    Two years later, my doctors agreed that I have a permanent partial disability. I am no longer able to work in any eight-hour desk job. A throbbing hand reminds me when it’s time to rest, and now I know to listen.

    Sprinkled through my late twenties and early thirties I also experienced episodes of suicidal ideation and general depressive states. I felt profoundly worthless even though I had my dream job in a beautiful coastal town of California.

    My monkey mind was full of chatter. I fixated on how to feel better, but I was just clinging to the same old habits of endless mental and physical activity.

    Through that difficult passage of time, I believe my psyche was taking me down the dark path of individuation, the transformative process of integrating one’s unconscious and conscious mind-body.

    It’s everyone’s birthright to return to wholeness—a magical reunion of parts that were separated and abandoned in the process of childhood. I discovered that I had banished lazy self-indulgence deep into my shadow.

    Jungian depth psychology and pole dancing opened me up. I healed through embodied sensual movement, accessing my creative inner guidance, making time for spontaneous play with no agenda, and finding peace in my deep stillness.

    Today I move with ease in my body. I find pleasure in places where I could not before. I know how to be in my deep stillness, and I have what feels like true, sustainable joy.

    It doesn’t mean I never slip into old habits. In fact, I still find new iterations of old patterns as I move through life, but I know how to work through them. It’s become my superpower.

    The Unconscious Driver in Your Mind and Body

    Often, we glorify hard work, refusing to admit the destruction it does to our minds and body when it’s become a habit.

    Many workaholics see their patterns as justified, always armed with a list of reasons why they must deliver the much-needed improvement or task despite the obvious sacrifices being made. They do not respond well to being told that they need to slow down or prioritize their well-being.

    Best case scenario, they agree that they work too hard but don’t know how to be any other way.

    If this resonates, maybe you beat yourself up for not being more present with yourself or your loved ones. And maybe you have a tendency to be your own worst critic due to your sky-high internal standards, so you’re particularly sensitive to critical feedback from others.

    The good news is that there’s nothing “wrong” with you. You’re not a bad person because you’re too busy to show up for others. You’re not a self-sabotaging idiot because you worked so hard that you injured yourself. You’re not broken because you can’t sit still.

    Just like any other addiction, workaholism is a coping strategy.

    Workaholism is a learned behavior that serves to protect you from feeling the pain and discomfort of being completely tuned in to your deep stillness without the activity. A work-oriented perfectionist unconsciously harbors a belief that they’re unworthy unless they’re busy fixing themselves or the world.

    Your workaholic tendencies have an incredible intelligence. Your body is brilliant, much more than your conscious mind and ego-persona, which think they know better. But they’re vastly mistaken.

    Five percent of your cognitive activity is conscious and the other 95% is unconscious.

    The 95% largely drives your actions, non-actions, urges, and beliefs. Your endless activity isn’t coming from your conscious thinking mind. You might be convinced that your sheer willpower and self-discipline are the reasons you’re so productive. But that’s simply not the case. You’re the result of unconscious conditioned patterns that influence your behavior in the world.

    If that isn’t humbling, then I don’t know what is.

    The urge to work longer and harder than is good for you is a felt sense in your body. Your impulses—if you pay really close attention—are a reaction to not wanting to feel a certain way. Ultimately, it’s to avoid the discomfort of being fully present to your perceived worthlessness in the midst of being idle, non-productive, and undisciplined.

    It’s so sneaky that you often never feel the first dose of discomfort because your body is so well programmed to keep you busy that it knows exactly how to keep you from feeling like a useless waste of space.

    Your body in its wholeness is so much smarter than your tiny fraction of conscious thoughts.

    It’s not your fault that you’ve never learned how to be any other way. It’s not your fault that most therapists, mentors, educators, and caregivers have no clue how to actually help you change your patterns.

    The great news is that you can change. Your mind-body is not permanently wired this way.

    Science and many different proven techniques tell us how we can change ourselves in ways that seem unimaginable. Unfortunately, these methods lag behind in formal education and the knowledge base of many healers. But, there are many entry points to working with your mind and body to transform how you show up.

    Mind-Body Practice

    While it’s not your fault that you’ve been conditioned to stay perpetually busy, it is your responsibility to do the inner work if you want to enjoy life as your best self who doesn’t need to work to feel worthy.

    If you have a conditioned tendency to avoid stillness because your body misconstrues it as dangerous, then you have to prove to yourself that endless activity is not the way to live fully in your pleasure, presence, and peace.

    Partner with your body and get lovingly curious about yourself.

    The precise activity that you avoid most, idleness, is one way to get acquainted with your inherent, non-negotiable worthiness. This will inevitably dredge up anxiety, depression, and other uncomfortable feelings.

    Learn to be in touch with what you’re feeling in your body, known as interoception. This alone is a practice that will pay you back tenfold in overall well-being, decision-making, and trusting your inner guidance.

    Observe where you’re holding any physical tension. Pay attention to places where discomfort begins to stir and notice what your first impulse is. Often, the urges that arise have a positive intention of squashing the discomfort. For someone with workaholism, that urge is productive activity.

    The body is excellent at reacting at warp speed to these signs of discomfort. Notice where the unease is showing up in your body and develop a practice of sitting with it–another practice that’s worth learning if you want to take the risk of being a human in a world of uncertainties. The treasures of life are found in the unknown.

    Over time, you will learn when your activity is exiting the healthy, productive realm and entering the unhealthy, self-sacrificing realm–so you can intervene.

    You’re incredibly capable of healing and changing your life. You’re not broken, no matter what your struggles are. Trust me, every practice I preach is one that I’ve used to transform my own life.

    Remember that you’re a beautiful creature who’s learning to exist exactly as you are—magnificent, perfect, and worthy.

  • Has Your Path in Life Meandered? Why It’s Okay to Take the Nonlinear Route

    Has Your Path in Life Meandered? Why It’s Okay to Take the Nonlinear Route

    “Even when we think we have things figured out and everything is going to plan, it can all change in a moment. Inspiration fades. Beliefs transform. Goals shift. Life happens. And that’s the thing. Life is not linear.” ~Aly Juma

    I was maybe around nine years old. My dad and I were working with orange play-doh in the shed next to the garage that we used for arts and crafts. Dioramas stood on either side of us—one with an underwater scene from The Magic School Bus, the other a solar system complete with styrofoam planets. Through the window the wind rustled our wooden swing-set.

    Taking the play-doh in my hands, I blobbed it into the shape of a hill.

    “It’s the hill between us and Aunt Maria,” I announced to my dad as it took form.

    Earlier that day we’d visited my aunt and cousins, who lived in a town that required crossing a tunnel through the hills to get to.

    My dad helped me carve out the tunnel. Then we chiseled the winding roads that seemed to coil up and down from one side of the hill to the other.

    I realized we’d never been up on those roads. I was curious to know if cars could drive across them, so I asked my dad. He told me they could.

    “Why don’t we ever?” I wondered aloud.

    It seemed like it would be fun—going up, down, and around all those curves. I wondered what we might see along the way. I wondered if it would feel like a Disneyland ride.

    “It’s very pretty up there,” my dad said. “But going through the tunnel gets you there much more quickly.”

    **

    As I got older, I realized I liked taking the hillier route in life.

    Those who had their mind made up seemed to zoom through a tunnel. My more meandering route looked quite different.

    My life after graduating from college included moving to Uruguay for a year, taking a job in social work upon returning, then driving Lyft for two and a half years before becoming a Spanish interpreter. I had a lot of time to write, practice my hobbies, and figure out my next move during this stretch of time.

    The Lyft driving in particular was a move that some might have seen as aimless and unambitious. Yet it felt like the best option for me then—a point in time when, with unresolved issues to heal, I needed freedom, flexibility, and control. Few other jobs offered those things.

    I enjoyed riding the wave of adventure wherever it took me.

    One time, after delivering flowers to an Uber Eats client in the Outer Sunset neighborhood of San Francisco on a rare sunny day, I went for a glorious barefoot jog along the beach.

    Another time I ended up at a cafe in Turlock where tables were barrels, next to windows that peered out at a street that looked plucked from the 1800s.

    Still another time I found myself at a storybook cafe attached to jacuzzis that cafe-goers could rent for an hour.

    When people asked, “Why would you want to drive Lyft?” or “Why would you want to live that lifestyle?”, small moments like these made up part of my answer. The freedom in my schedule (part of the independent contractor lifestyle) allowed them to happen. I learned to be a treasurer of beauty in random places and unexpected moments.

    **

    Sometimes unanticipated events can derail even our best laid plans. There are so many things we can’t control, and practicing flexibility can help soften the blow of this.

    Let’s say I’d planned to give a couple of quick rides before ending at a cafe to study for my Spanish interpreting test—but then a passenger requested a ride that was longer than I’d anticipated. In order to still meet the studying need, I’d translate passengers’ conversations into Spanish in my head.

    I also joined 24 Hour Fitness so that no matter where I ended up, a workout facility would never be too far out of range. (Whichever was closest by the end of my last ride was the one I’d work out at.)

    I was reminded that there are multiple paths to meeting our needs. To not wall myself off to doing this in unconventional or creative ways. The more adamant you are about the “hows,” the likelier you’ll be to neglect meeting them altogether. I learned to choose instead to satisfy them in a perhaps less conventional (albeit un-ideal) way.

    When we aren’t flexible, we become victims to our circumstances. This can lead to learned helplessness.

    **

    For anyone who’s still not quite sure where their life is headed, or feels like they’re trekking the hilly meandering route:

    You don’t need to immediately—or ever—commit yourself to the rat race. Sometimes you just don’t know what’s right for you. And it’s okay to take time to figure it out.

    I’ve learned that we don’t need to be the car shooting straight through the tunnel. The tunnel may be the quickest, most straightforward commute. But there are so many ways to arrive at your ultimate destination. Our route can be like the alternative, unexplored roads over the hills.

    Remind yourself that your ultimate goals probably aren’t to live aimlessly and hedonistically. You just haven’t figured out what your ultimate goals are yet. Maybe it’s taking you a little longer to get there. And that’s okay.

    Keep listening to your intuition until it takes you where you need to be. Maybe your path is to keep moving, until eventually you arrive at your wiser end goal. And maybe once on it, you won’t look back—because no one forced you onto it. You arrived there on your own. It happened when it was supposed to.

    And if your ultimate goal is to aimlessly and hedonistically, that’s okay too. There’s no wrong path in life—just what feels right to you.

  • Stay in the Right Lane: Let Yourself Slow Down and Enjoy Life

    Stay in the Right Lane: Let Yourself Slow Down and Enjoy Life

    “I don’t want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.” ~Diane Ackerman

    Wow! My last weeks of my career. Though many days and weeks over the last thirty-four years have seemed to last forever, it truly is astonishing how fast time goes. And don’t we often try to make it go even faster?

    Our jobs are stressful. We are often under tight time constraints and deadlines. We have clients and associates who want and need things yesterday.

    We work in jobs we have very little control over. Add that to our daily responsibilities as parents, spouses, partners, friends, children to aging parents and—not to be forgotten—ourselves. It’s a lot.

    Maybe you are like me. When I was younger, I too often:

    • wanted to fast-forward to a new day, a new week, or a new season of life
    • wished time away
    • focused on that vacation that was months away
    • couldn’t wait until my kids were older
    • had my eye on that next job
    • sought to get through tough circumstances I was facing, or
    • desired to be where someone else was in life

    What did it cost me? Memories and opportunities. I don’t remember many details of when my kids were growing up because I was always thinking ahead. I was not in the moment.

    I missed opportunities to learn and grow because I was always focused on that next thing instead of learning what could help me in that next thing.

    I missed all the beauty this earth has to offer because I was driving too fast.

    It cost me time. I wished away something I can never get back. It cost me the fun of simply living life, my life.

    It has taken me sixty-five years on earth to figure out how to make every moment count. And, if I’m honest, it’s something I must work at every day.

    “Don’t focus on making each moment perfect, focus on the perfection each moment provides, be it a good one, or not so good one.” ~Jenna Kutcher

    Notice that I didn’t say “make every moment happy, productive, or memorable.” Just make it count. Be in it. Live it.

    There are many moments that aren’t happy. In fact, they can be downright sorrowful or exhausting. But, at the same time, they help shape you and enable you to grow.

    I missed many good moments in my life because I was too focused on making the ending happy or perfect to enjoy what was happening right before my eyes.

    A few years ago, my son and I met up with a good friend of mine. We started talking about our kids and what fun it was to go to all of their events when they were younger. I was pounding my chest by bragging about being at all of their events.

    My son, to his credit, challenged me. He said I was there physically, but I wasn’t really there. He told my friend I was always on my phone, or otherwise preoccupied. He was right. I was there but I can’t tell you about the goals they scored, the amazing moves they made, or the songs they sang. It was like a dagger went through my heart. But it was true.

    My dear friend Doug told me a great way he is trying to live right now. He said, “stay in the right lane.” I love that. We often want to get somewhere fast, so we pull into the left lane and zoom past everything to get to the destination. 

    I did that most of my life, in all areas of my life. As I start to live in the right lane, I am having an easier time being more in the moment. I am being intentional.

    I start my day with a routine of praying, journaling, exercising, and setting my focus to not be on one or two things, but to be awed by the wonder of what I might encounter. I intentionally set aside days where I do not have a set schedule.

    As I am more in the moment, I am experiencing all sorts of beauty, joy, amazement, clarity, purposefulness, happiness, and opportunity.

    When you look at my photo library, you will see mostly pictures of bugs, birds, flowers, and trees from my walks. My mind has space to be creative and I am finding clarity on the things I want to do in this season of life, for me. My relationships are flourishing because I am actually there, truly experiencing another person.

    Being present has also allowed me to see myself for more of who I am. I have often said I never felt I was good enough. I felt I had to do more in order to be enough. Now that I have more clarity on who I am, I want to do more, because I am enough. I realize that no matter what I do from here on out, I am good enough. Because of who I am, not what I do.

    Many have asked what I will do in retirement. Like, retirement is the end, so how will you live to the end? I am looking at it more as a transition into the next leg of my journey.

    I am going to continue to live in the right lane, enjoy every moment, create and experience new moments, and focus on the journey itself, not the destination. I plan to live as Laurie Santos puts it, “be happy in my life, and with my life.”

    “The most dangerous risk of all…is the risk of spending your life not doing what you want, on the bet you can buy yourself the freedom to do it later.” ~Randy Komisar

    So how do you do that? It isn’t always easy.

    Have good self-awareness (know yourself and trust yourself). Be intentional. Make time for the people and things that matter. Make the time to think about what you really want in life.

    And slow yourself down.

  • Coping with the Grief of a Layoff: 5 Tips If You’re Looking for a Job

    Coping with the Grief of a Layoff: 5 Tips If You’re Looking for a Job

    “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” ~Seneca

    We are in such a hard season of the economy, and the implications of people getting laid off are so real and unfortunately painful.

    No matter how competent or qualified you are, the job search process is hard. And even when you know your layoff was due to reasons completely outside your control, it still hurts.

    The fear, instability, and uncertainty about what your next job will be or when it will come to fruition are emotionally unsettling, and our collective toxic positivity conditioning isn’t always helpful.

    Yes, it’s true that most of us have more to be grateful for than we can feel in the moment, but our hard feelings are valid and need space to be felt.

    I was recently let go from a role that felt like a dream job when I signed my offer letter, and yes, I have healed from that pain, but I had to feel my way through all of it versus simply “thinking positive.”

    I had multiple layers of emotions even before I was let go. First, there was the disappointment that the job wasn’t what I thought it would be, then there was the grief over a chapter of my life ending without knowing why and the lack of closure.

    Despite our difficult feelings, we have the capacity to heal, reconnect with ourselves, and rediscover what needs to come alive during these often-painful seasons of transition. But we have to give ourselves permission to be real—to be honest with ourselves more than anybody else—and we also need tremendous amounts of self-trust and self-belief in a season that feels rife with self-doubt.

    Here are some thoughts that may be helpful if you were let go and are looking for a new job.

    1. Acknowledge what you are feeling.

    You have full permission to feel whatever you’re feeling right now. Feeling your feelings doesn’t make you weak; it makes you brave. And there is a difference between giving yourself permission to feel and move through them versus getting stuck. I am advocating for the former.

    Maybe you had a vacation planned that will now need to be canceled and you’re feeling disappointed, or you may be the sole breadwinner of your family and you’re feeling scared. Maybe you never had a chance to say goodbye to your coworkers, and you’re grieving the loss of those daily connections. Maybe you had the world’s best manager, and you are heartbroken to no longer be working for that person. All of your feelings are valid.

    2. Take care of yourself.

    It can be very tempting to spend every waking minute tweaking your resume, applying to jobs, or doing informational interviews. Prioritizing a few simple self-care basics can go a long way to sustaining your momentum. A thirty-minute walk, some mindfulness practice, and coffee with a friend in real life are all simple but powerful ways to help you stay grounded in what truly is a hard season.

    This can feel obvious, but during our hardest times especially, with uncertainty in the environment, it can be easy to go into a narrative of “I don’t deserve rest” or “I haven’t earned a break.” But here is the truth: Rest, downtime, joy, fun, and play are your birthrights. You don’t have to earn them, and they can actually be effective components of your achievement strategy since they all help you feel and be your best.

    3. Audit your learnings.

    Being a bit distant from the day-to-day work grind can be a good time to reflect on your learnings, who you are as a person, employee, and leader, and what’s truly next for you versus what you think you should be doing next.

    There is a difference, and even if you can’t go for the former, there is power in naming what you want so that you can find components of the “want” even in your “shoulds” and potentially build toward something that will be even more fulfilling.

    Take a moment and think about your peak moments of aliveness in your journey and how can you bring more of them where you go next. What skills do you most enjoy using? What contribution would you feel most proud to make? What are the environments and who are the leaders that bring out the best in you?

    As for me, I had long wanted to work for myself and start my own small business. Being laid off meant I could take something that I had been doing on the side and turn up the dial to do more of it full-time.

    4. Build a solid strategy.

    Once you have a sense of what you want for your future, create a routine and strategy to give your day structure and ensure you’re putting your energy in the right direction.

    There’s no one-size-fits-all strategy. It all depends on your field, aspirations, personality, the season of your career, and more. There are lots of areas where you can invest your time—job fairs, informational interviews, cover letters, job applications, resumes, networking events, and more, so make sure you have a plan while also leaving room for some serendipitous wins so you can prepare for any new opportunities that come your way.

    The important thing is to be proactive instead of reactive. It’s easy to let your fear-based brain run the show, as you scroll through social media and see what other people are doing. Focus on your goals, create a solid plan to work toward them, and stay patient and committed. It’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon, so be intentional, have a plan, and stay focused so you don’t get discouraged or burnt out.

    5. Invite support.

    And finally, my favorite, invite support, not because you are weak and can’t do it alone but because we all do better in community and connection. Find a friend in a similar situation so you can support each other and hold each other accountable. Or hire a career coach or a therapist if you can or join an online support group. Surround yourself with other humans who want to lift you up and are skilled at bringing out the best in you.

    I hope you know that you are not alone on your journey. There are so many humans across the globe navigating this uncertainty every day, unsure of when our economy will recover, when they will find a job, or how long they will be able to hold onto the job that they have at hand. Know that you are doing real hard work with everything happening in our world and the collective grief and trauma we have all experienced as a human species over the last two-plus years.

    I hope you can see your own brilliance, talent, and wisdom and build up the courage to share it bravely with the world.

  • The Six Ps: What to Do and Not to Do When Dealing with Setbacks and Failure

    The Six Ps: What to Do and Not to Do When Dealing with Setbacks and Failure

    “Sometimes you get what you want. Other times, you get a lesson in patience, timing, alignment, empathy, compassion, faith, perseverance, resilience, humility, trust, meaning, awareness, resistance, purpose, clarity, grief, beauty, and life. Either way, you win.” ~Brianna Wiest

    “Good as gold,” the cab driver replied as I nervously handed him the $20 bill and asked, “Okay?” He jumped in his cab and drove off.

    I was pleasantly surprised by his politeness, as I was expecting him to argue with me for extra money because we’d gone around in circles searching for the address that I had given him at the airport. These were the pre-GPS days, of course!

    This was the start of my emotional rollercoaster upon arrival in New Zealand as a new migrant.

    The first few days were filled with excitement and happiness. Discovering a new country, meeting friendly people, learning new things—all these experiences made me a wide-eyed migrant seduced by the charms of my new surroundings.

    After a few weeks, the rollercoaster took a downward dive as I started getting frustrated with a spate of rejections. All my job applications brought forth polite rejection letters. The message I was getting was that my lack of local experience made me very unappealing to prospective employers. Nobody was willing to even interview me.

    How was I going to break out of this Catch-22 situation? I couldn’t get local experience without a job, but I couldn’t get a job without local experience!

    After months of fruitless searching, the rollercoaster finally took an upward turn. Driven to despair by the unwillingness of employers to grant me an interview, I decided to enroll in a university to acquire a local qualification in the hope that it might open a door for me. This out-of-the-box thinking got me my first job through a contact from the university. At last, a feeling of joy!

    I felt that my problems had ended, and now I was set for a long and successful career in my adopted country. How wrong I was! It was time for the emotional rollercoaster to start its downward journey again.

    Within a few months, my joy turned to confusion when my employer went from being very pleased with me to finding fault with everything I did almost overnight. I struggled to understand what had changed.

    A little while later I realized that my employer had hired me only to take advantage of a government scheme that subsidized (for a fixed term) employers who hired new migrants.

    My employer blamed me for things that had nothing to do with me and attributed other people’s mistakes to me. His cunning plan was to make my life so difficult that I would quit. That way there wouldn’t be any awkward questions from the government department about hiring me and then firing me within a few months.

    I felt an overarching sense of sadness and disappointment when I realized that my initial thoughts of everyone in my new country being friendly was just an illusion. I learned the lesson that people were people, some good and some not-so-good, no matter what part of the world they were in. I parted ways with my first employer in rather unpleasant circumstances.

    The long period of unemployment that followed created self-doubts in my mind.

    “Did I do the right thing by moving to another country?”

    “Will I ever succeed in finding decent employment?”

    Feelings of regret began to run riot in my mind.

    “Why didn’t I find out more about my employment prospects in this country before deciding to move here lock, stock, and barrel?”

    “I shouldn’t have taken such a big risk.”

    Every time I heard about someone that I knew doing well back home, I felt sorry for myself. I started feeling like I’d made a mistake by moving to New Zealand. As I had burned bridges before migrating, I felt there was no way of going back and restarting from where I had left off.

    By the time the rollercoaster took another upward turn, I had already been in the country for quite a while. It took four to five years for my career to stabilize and for me to start feeling satisfied with my decision to move. When you migrate to a new country, it’s not just the flight that is long-haul!

    I’ve shared the story of my emotional rollercoaster so I can also share my consequent learnings with you. My hope is that if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, you might be able to alleviate your feelings of hopelessness with the realization that you’re not alone and you can get out of any difficult situation with the right mindset.

    THE SIX Ps

    I’d like to encapsulate this journey of going from where you are to where you want to be in terms of “The Six Ps”—three Ps for what one shouldn’t do, and three Ps for what one should do.

    Let’s first take a look at the three Ps to avoid.

    1. Don’t take setbacks or adversities PERSONALLY.

    It’s important to separate your failures from your identity.

    If we take every rejection, setback, and problem personally, our self-esteem takes a beating and we can easily go down the rabbit holes of despair and depression.

    I was rejected over 200 times, without even getting an interview, before I got my first job. While I would never want to be in that situation again, or ever wish that upon anyone, I realize that I was fortunate not to allow myself to get dragged deep into the swamp of feeling worthless. In hindsight, I believe that this tough phase played a key role in building my resilience.

    2. Don’t allow a failure to become all-PERVASIVE.

    A failure or setback in one area of your life should remain contained to that area and not spill over into other areas.

    When my emotional rollercoaster was on a downward slope, it felt natural for me to start linking my failure in landing a job to every other aspect of life in the new country. Negative thoughts started doing the rounds in my mind.

    “I’m a misfit here.”

    “This place is not right for me.”

    “I am doomed.”

    The unfortunate consequence of such pervasive thinking is that it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy unless you stop this vicious cycle before it becomes too late. Enrolling in a course was the best step I took at that time as it gave my mind something else to focus on.

    3. Don’t think of any adversity as PERMANENT.

    Every crisis in the history of the world has ended. However difficult your challenge might seem, there will always be light at the end of the tunnel. You may not be able to see it from where you are now, but take comfort in the history of the world and assure yourself that your crisis will also have an end.

    My challenge with finding a job as a migrant went on for a long time, but eventually, it did end. If I had adopted a mindset of permanence with thoughts like “I’m never going to succeed here,” my efforts would have waned. When our efforts start to taper off, the desired results start moving further away from us.

    Now for the three Ps to adopt!

    1. Have PATIENCE.

    I’m sure you’ve heard the expression “good things take time.” Have faith in that!

    Some things take longer than we would like. That’s just life. Have the willingness to wait as you keep following the process. Dedicate yourself to the process and allow the results to happen.

    2. Develop PERSEVERANCE.

    Too often people give up just before they’re about to crack the code. The ability to continue our efforts in the face of difficulty or forge through delay in the way of their success is what separates the winners from the also-rans.

    Life is like an obstacle race. Get better at tackling the obstacles and continuing your journey toward your objectives. Take help, reach out for support—do whatever it takes to keep going.

    3. Find your PURPOSE.

    I believe that this third P underpins the other two Ps that you should do to achieve success.

    Without a strong purpose, it becomes easy to give up when the going gets tough. Purpose provides the fuel for motivation.

    Figure out why you want what you want. What is driving you? Go deep, look beneath the surface—sometimes your real WHY can be hidden under superficial WHYs.

    It can be difficult to have patience and perseverance if you don’t know the true purpose behind your goals.

    —

    Life is a journey of ups and downs. Realizing and accepting this fact puts us in a much better position to handle adversities. Most of our disappointment in life comes from having unrealistic expectations.

    If you’re ready to handle the ups and downs of this rollercoaster of life, buckle yourself in and enjoy the ride!

  • How I’ve Dealt with the Shame and Embarrassment of a Failed Career

    How I’ve Dealt with the Shame and Embarrassment of a Failed Career

    “If we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive.” ~Brené Brown

    The embarrassment you feel upon realizing you don’t actually have what it takes to make a success of yourself. The shame of knowing you spent years training to do one thing and then you bailed right at the finish line. The fear of what to tell people when they ask you what you’re up to.

    Of course, you don’t tell anyone how you feel, as you’re too embarrassed to admit you even have these feelings, so you just bury it all away.

    I know these feelings all too well, as I’ve been through them all. It took me years to finally face up to what I actually felt and deal with it. As a coach once told me, “Buried emotions never die.”

    I knew I always wanted to be in the arts. I loved dance and drama, and I wanted to be an actor. I could feel it so strongly that I never even considered a different career.

    I started dance classes at the young age of six, and at eleven years old I went to a performing arts school. So my training began.

    After school I went to a reputable college where I did a further three years of training. I was sixteen years old and was told to lose weight and wear heels and make-up. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this wasn’t the healthiest thing to tell a teenager.

    After three exhausting years I graduated. All the training, the hard work, the sacrifice had led up to this moment. I was going to get an agent, start working in theater, and move into TV and film.

    But that didn’t happen.

    Instead of going full steam into my career, I froze. The last term of college crushed me.

    The last term all led up to our final show. The show ran for a few weeks in different locations around the city, and it was meant to be an opportunity for us performers to show off our talent. Everyone was meant to invite agents in the hopes of getting signed.

    However, I didn’t invite anyone. I was so ashamed of my performance. I felt I had been cast in utterly the wrong role, and no matter how much I tried, I just couldn’t make it work, and no one seemed to care.

    I remember wishing I would fall down the stairs of the tube station so I would break my leg and not have to perform; I was so humiliated.

    Rather than leaving college confident and excited, I left with my confidence at rock bottom.

    I never did anything with my training. All those years, all those dreams, all those aspirations, but when push came to shove, I didn’t do anything with it.

    For years I told myself that the last term was so tough that it broke me, and that is why I never continued after college. I blamed everyone else.

    It took me years to admit that it was actually my decision to quit. It took me even longer to understand why that was. I realize now I was scared.

    In fact, I was petrified that I wasn’t as talented as I thought I was. I knew if I put myself out there and tried to make a career out of it and failed, I would have proof that I wasn’t talented.

    If I blamed everyone else and quit before I got started then, in my head, I could always be amazing and could have always potentially had a career in the arts.

    Emotions are so complex, though, that it took me a long time to dig deep enough to find this truth.

    Thus, I found myself aged eighteen years old, with no formal education, and all I had ever wanted to do was perform, so what now? I was totally lost.

    I just froze. I didn’t get an agent; I didn’t go to auditions. I just quit.

    I had spent my entire life working toward this moment, and at the final hurdle I fell. It really shook me up; I felt like an utter failure and was humiliated.

    I was so ashamed and embarrassed that I stayed in contact with no one from college, except two friends.

    I remember walking down Oxford High Street and seeing two of my former classmates. I jumped into a shop to hide from them because I was afraid they would ask what I had been up to.

    All I could think was, “What would I tell them?” They were probably off in West End Shows, and what was I doing? I was a failure. Of course, this was before social media, so no one knew what I was or was not doing.

    Eventually I decided I would take some time out and go to Thailand. I ended up spending a year there. I became a diving instructor, and I met the man that would become my husband.

    Once back home, I got a job in recruitment and my career went from strength to strength. I thought I had moved on and was happy with my life.

    Yet whenever I would meet someone who asked about my education or what I did at school, I would panic. “What do I tell them? How do I explain that I trained, but never turned it into a career?” They would know my dirty secret, that I was an untalented failure.

    I would lie and make up stories as to why I decided to change careers after my education.

    I couldn’t understand why I still cared so much about this. Why did I feel I had to lie?  Although life was great, deep down I felt that something was missing. It sometimes felt like there was a dark mass in the pit of my stomach.

    I had a session with my coach about this feeling, and what came up? The arts, my love for dancing, my failed career, my shame, my embarrassment. I remember breaking down in tears. I was so angry that twenty years later I still hadn’t moved on.

    I was so angry that this was still such a big thing in my life. That it was still there with me. I just wanted it to go away. It felt pathetic that it still had such a huge hold over me; what was wrong with me? I just kept saying, “This is so ridiculous, why can’t I just let it go?”

    But remember what I said earlier? Buried emotions never die. They never leave you; they’re just festering

    I was so confused by it all, I didn’t understand why it still had such a hold on me. Why I felt so embarrassed and full of shame. My coach helped me unpack it all.

    The lies I had told myself had become so much a part of me; I had to work hard to pick it all apart to find the truth.

    After so many years, I was finally able to face up to what had happened. I was just a scared teenager. I was so scared of failure and rejection that I found a way to protect myself by making up a lie and quitting.

    I needed to make peace with this, and I needed to accept responsibility. I found this hard to do, as I didn’t like this version of me. It was much easier to blame everyone else than to see it was my fear that stopped me.

    I needed to forgive myself.

    I stopped telling myself lies and admitted that when I graduated, I was petrified of failure, so I quit before I could fail. I realized I still had a love for the arts and I needed to find an outlet in my life.

    It was hard work and took many sessions to really dig into the truth, but once I did, I was finally able to talk about the arts and my past without shame or embarrassment. I could finally move on.

    I did a lot of work re-connecting with teenage Alice. Writing letters to her, forgiving her, and showing her compassion. I also did a lot of work on acknowledging what I had achieved and who I had become.

    I know I’m not alone in what I felt and what I went through. I wish I could have started this healing process a long time ago because as much work as I have done, I know there is still more to do.

    For anyone who is experiencing what I did, know that you’re not alone and you’re not silly for feeling the way you do. Also know, you can change it.

    I learned so many things in the process.

    You can’t just ignore what you feel.

    At the time I was so confused by what I felt. Instead of trying to understand what was happening, I just buried everything.

    Eventually I had to look my shame and embarrassment in the eye and understand what they were telling me about myself. What was the message?

    There is always a message behind your feelings and emotions; you just need to be brave enough to hear them. I found journaling really helped with this.

    It takes time.

    If, like me, you have already spent years ignoring what you felt, that also means you’ve likely spent years telling yourself lies. What you are feeling is complex, and it will take time to work through it. Don’t expect an overnight change.

    Things still come up now that I have to work through. Human beings are extremely complex, and it takes time to break through all our barriers.

    Share what you’re feeling because you won’t be alone.

    I remember telling my old manager about how I felt. He had the same background as me, and he said, “Alice, I felt exactly the same way.” He told me he moved cities just to get away from people he knew.

    Just hearing that made me know I wasn’t insane. It was amazing to hear he understood.

    We hear it all the time, but sharing what you’re going through really does help. So share your story.

    Stop punishing yourself and have fun.

    For anyone reading this who can relate, you have likely boxed away something you loved. It’s time to take it out of the box and allow yourself to have fun again. You don’t need to keep punishing yourself.

    I didn’t allow myself to dance for years. It was too painful. However, my body was screaming out for it. I realized it wouldn’t be a career, but that didn’t mean I had to cut it out of my life completely. I could still enjoy it.

    —

    It’s been a long journey for me. Mainly because when I quit twenty years ago, I had a rush of feelings and emotions, and I didn’t know how to deal with them, so I pushed them away and lied to myself. It took a long time to undo all the stories I had told myself.

    You don’t need to be embarrassed or feel ashamed, but also know it’s okay if you do feel this way. Just don’t hide from these feelings. Understand them, embrace them, and make peace with them. That way you can allow yourself to move on.

  • Why It No Longer Matters to Me If My Job Impresses People

    Why It No Longer Matters to Me If My Job Impresses People

    “Do not let the roles you play in life make you forget who you are.” ~Roy T. Bennett

    Wherever I go and meet new people, they ask me, “What do you do?”

    I love talking about what I do because I love what I do, but It’s not what I’ve always done, and it certainly isn’t all of who I am. It’s part of who I am, but there is so much more.

    When we’re young, we’re asked to decide on a career. You know, the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” The problem is, does anyone in high school truly know what they want to do for the rest of their lives? I’d venture to say that many high school kids don’t even know who they really are yet.

    When I was growing up, I was a straight-A student, a star athlete, a perfectionist, and an overachiever. I learned at a young age that performing well was my ticket to feeling good about myself. My accomplishments garnered the praise and admiration of many and gave me what I needed to feel good.

    Validation.

    As a senior in high school, it was natural that I chose to go to college for aerospace engineering. I was interested in aviation, but more importantly, when I told other people what I had decided on, they nodded their heads in approval. A smart girl should choose a “smart career,” right?

    Validation and approval drove me forward.

    When I got out of college with a BS in aerospace engineering from the University of Minnesota, I went to work for The Boeing Company in Seattle, Washington. I didn’t love it. Part of it may have been homesickness, or the dreary Seattle weather, but a huge part of it was that the corporate cubicle life was not for me.

    I thought there was something wrong with me. After all, I had worked so hard to reach this point in my life. I should love it, right? Hadn’t I finally arrived?

    I struggled with it so much because on one hand, I dreaded going to work. On the other hand, when I told people what I did for a living, they leaned in and listened a little harder. Even my own father was proud to talk about my engineering career and the fact that I worked for one of the top aerospace companies in the world, but I’ve since moved to less impressive pursuits, he has never once asked me about those endeavors.

    My career looked awesome and interesting and impressive on paper, but I was quietly dying inside.

    My husband and I ended up moving all the way across the country to Savannah, Georgia, where I worked for another top aerospace company—Gulfstream Aerospace. I didn’t really feel any different about my position there, until I transferred into a group called Sales Engineering.

    In this area, I was able to interact and collaborate with sales and marketing to create the technical data they would use to pitch Gulfstream’s fleet to potential customers. I enjoyed the challenge, but I really enjoyed the collaboration with other people that weren’t buried in their computers all day. It was here that I first got a glimpse that I loved connecting with other people.

    When my first child was born, I left the aerospace industry. We had just moved cross-country again to Los Angeles, and it made more sense for me to be a full-time mom since I wasn’t the family breadwinner, and we didn’t absolutely need a second income. Plus, I wasn’t enamored with the whole engineering gig either, so in a sense, it was a way out.

    Quitting the career that I didn’t love was, on one hand, so freeing. But on the other hand, without that thick layer of validation that kept getting piled on every time someone asked me “What do you do for a living?”, I felt naked. I felt inferior. I felt like I was a failure who couldn’t hack it in the real world.

    My identity was wrapped up in my career that looked so good on paper but didn’t feel good in my soul.

    My ex-husband is an attorney, and we’d attend events with lots of other attorneys and highly educated people. At these events, I dreaded the question “So, Kortney, what do you do?”

    My response was always a little timid, almost apologetic.

    “I stay at home with our son.”

    There was typically a slow nod, with a bit of feigned interest, as if they weren’t really sure what more to say about the occupation stay-at-home mom.

    Because I also had a side-gig photography business, I’d quickly add, “and I’m also a photographer.”

    That tended to garner a bit more interest.

    “But I used to be an aerospace engineer,” I’d tack on, in a final effort to gain the nod of approval I so desperately sought.

    Bingo. Alarm bells sounded. The crowd cheered. People were reeled back into something more exciting.

    That good, old familiar friend, validation was back.

    I struggled for a long time to find my identity without all the “stuff” on the outside. It wasn’t until I got divorced and had to figure out how I would financially support myself after my spousal support ran out that I even scratched the surface of “Who am I, really?”

    Who am I without my career, the accomplishments, the external validation?

    All those years, I lived with one foot in the world of wanting to love myself for who I am rather than what I did and one foot in the world of doing more, doing better, doing it ALL.

    I lived in between the worlds of self-validation and external validation. 

    I knew I wanted the former, yet I craved the latter.

    In doing the work of figuring out who I really am, learning to love myself fully, and being able to validate myself without any help from the outside, I realized that I was asking myself the wrong questions all along.

    As a society, we ask the wrong questions.

    Instead of asking our kids, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”, I think we should be asking them, “Who do you want to be?”

    I asked my eleven-year-old daughter this, and she looked at me in her quizzical mom-why-are-you-asking-me-such-a-weird-question way and said, “Umm, I just want to be me?”

    Yes!

    Shouldn’t we all just want to be who we are? 

    Instead of pursuing goals that are impressive because they bring us accolades and attention, what if we were to pursue our goals because they lit us up and we were truly passionate about them?

    What if we started asking our kids questions about what lights them up? How do they want to feel? What things do they like to do that make them feel that way?

    Even as adults, we can ask ourselves these questions.

    If you’re in a job that doesn’t feel right, you can ask yourself, “How do I want to feel?”

    What’s authentic to you? How do you want to show up in the world? What jobs or careers would allow you to show up that way?

    This is the work I did after my divorce. I’m in a completely different career now, and believe me, as much as I fought going back to a job in the engineering industry, I had to do a lot of work on my thinking about not having a “smart job” like being an engineer. The validation I craved and was so used to was like a drug.

    Through this work, I learned how I want to feel in my life and that guides everything.

    I discovered that I want to feel freedom, ease, joy, and meaning in my life. 

    Going to a cubicle every day didn’t allow me to create those feelings. I want to show up in the world authentically—I want to be able to be a human being who makes mistakes and can share myself with other people. Corporate life didn’t allow me to be that authentic person that I now so deeply love.

    Some of you reading this may have corporate jobs and love them. You may be able to create the feelings you want to feel and show up authentically with that type of career. That’s awesome!

    The goal is to be able to feel the way you want to feel. The goal is to be able to show up in the world in a way that is true to who you are. 

    Because how you show up to do the things you do in the world is what really matters.