Living on the Outside

Where do you want to work?

I ask this question of both adult clients and young students. Whether it's at a start-up or an established corporation, a solopreneurship (yes, this is a word) or a non-profit organization, everyone has some kind of idea of where they would prefer to work.

But getting past "some kind of idea" takes deeper exploration. I myself still examine where and how I want to work. One-on-one? With groups? And how many of my various talents and interests do I want to satisfy in a day or week or year? Those are the questions I've continually asked myself since I begin coaching back in 2007. Not surprisingly, the answers have evolved.

While I've enjoyed coaching one-on-one, I gradually realized that the extrovert in me wasn't always satisfied. I didn't feel as if I was really living "out loud"; rather, I was discovering that most of my day was in solitude, except for the two or three one-on-one client conversations. Writing and reading, while two of my absolute favorite things to do, are introverted, secluded activities that couldn't make up for my inherent need to talk and collaborate with groups in a lively, conversation-rich environment. I think out loud, which naturally informs how I work best the majority of the time.

Over the past year I've led several career education presentations to colleges and organizations, headed up my college alumnae club here in Washington DC, collaborated with a colleague on a brand new young women's leadership initiative and, in returning to my theatre roots, I've directed a show with 80+ young people in it. Talk about satisfying my extrovert needs!

In this more extroverted capacity I've never felt more alive. Not only am I immersed in the fields of human development, career design and talent, I am also engaging in activities such as presenting, collaborating,  performing, directing and improvising. I'm using more of my abilities and interests than ever.

Subsequently, with all of this exterior living, it has meant that my internally focused writing time is relegated to a daily journal and designing career education programs. And trust me- I preserve that precious writing time. But this also means that my blog must go on a hiatus- at least for the time being. I will still continue sharing ideas about human potential, creativity and careers on social media sites such as LinkedIn, Facebook and Twitter however.

Until more blogging time presents itself, I do want to say thank you for reading. It has truly been a pleasure.

How to Discover Something

“Never be so focused on what you're looking for that you overlook the thing you actually find.” 

― Ann Patchett, 

State of Wonder

My Mother's Resilience

I brought "Lamby" in hopes
it would cheer her up

When I wrote about my mom's series of stroke episodes last spring, I was certain we were going to lose her. That prospect made me terribly, terribly sad. There is no other way to describe it, really. The very thought of losing my mom at any minute was just too much for me to bear, and I found myself walking around numb.  I was finally witnessing what countless older people meant when they'd warned me that no matter how old you are, it's never easy losing your mom or dad. 

Of course, I knew that, at age 44, I'd been very fortunate that my mom had witnessed so many of my milestones while growing up. She had even seen my little ones grow into not-so-little ones, which many adult children, unfortunately, can't experience. But even knowing how lucky I should've felt didn't seem to comfort me or prevent my heart from breaking.

If I told you all of the medical events my mom endured during a short period of time, you wouldn't believe me. You'd insist that one person could never have withstood the impact of so much adversity. But, as I said, I am fortunate in so many ways. Not only did I grow up with a mother who loved and cherished me, she is also a fighter. In fact, she is still with us as I write this post, and is doing quite well.

Our Christmas gift: Mom came home!

In addition to Mom's perseverance, Dad's diligent caregiving has been a critical factor in her recovery. The assisted living facility where she spent months in rehabilitation told us that my mom was the hardest working resident and my dad was the most doting spouse. This daughter was quite proud to hear that!

It's been a very arduous, painful journey of recovery for Mom since last spring, since in the beginning she couldn't even sit up on her own, much less stand. Now she is walking really well with a walker- and is working on using a cane. Her speech was also practically non-existent and we didn't think she'd ever be able to have a conversation again. But now we talk on the phone all the time.

Our November visit.
My dad has been a champion caregiver. No easy feat!

Who knew during those harrowing days last spring that my family and I would be able to fly out in November and watch Dee Dee (the kids' name for her) celebrate her 71st birthday- in a restaurant, no less!

Despite a strict post-stroke diet that she sticks to like a champ,
Dee Dee had a little piece of birthday cake.

My mom is slowly getting back to the things she loved to do, such as making cards.
When the strokes hit, we thought that was a thing of the past, especially since she lost movement in her dominant right side. But guess who sent us homemade Valentine's Day cards?!

Surprise!

Thanks to my my mom's persistence and dad's diligent care I've had what I call "bonus time"- time that I didn't think I'd have just a few months ago. Now I can't say "I love you" enough to either of them.

A parent's resilience is, simply put, beautiful. And the best gift a child- grown-up or not- can ask for.

A New (and Better) Dream

A moving story about the importance of allowing your dreams to evolve and change: Joe Sharkey and The Sneaker Wars

The Fine Art of Messing Up

We all make mistakes. 

And while these blunders may challenge and vex us, let's face it: most of the time mistakes are anything but fatal. In fact, chances are they'll bring something even better into our lives.

So what if we viewed our mistakes in a beneficial, rather than a destructive, light? What would happen? I offer up a few possibilities:

*Career mess-ups could be viewed as valuable career experiences.

*Receiving criticism could help us figure out how to put our strengths to better use.

*Misjudging the competition might guide us to a more lucrative playing field.

*Dreams we can't seem to fulfill could make way for even bigger, better ones.

It's our choice: we can constantly regret missteps and see them as failures, or we can accept- maybe even embrace- the crazy turns and decisions we've made in the past and treat them as navigational devices for the future. In this new light, the pain and scars acquired along the journey transform into badges of honor, rather than embarrassments to hide out of shame.

We are not perfect, so how can we expect each choice we make to be perfect?

There is a centuries-old Japanese art form, Kintsugi, that celebrates mistakes and imperfections- particularly in the form of cracks and fissures- and sees them as things of beauty and meaning. I find the art form, which is distinctly aligned with Zen philosophy, to be a fantastic metaphor for creating your own unique path.

This fun video illustrates the history and process of Kintsugi, as well as it's celebration of the imperfect. Check it out  here.

Enjoy!

-Katie

The Benefits of Growing Older

Thought I'd share with you a lovely, nuanced study that I find quite inspiring. "Wisdom of the Aged"

Enjoy!

-Katie

Do You Have Something to Say ... or Prove?

I used to have something to prove.

Now I have something to say.

I'd like to think of this transformation as a sign of maturity rather than evidence that I need to make more noise in the world.

(The jury's still out on that one.)

A surprising number of young people (yours truly included, many years ago) choose career paths based on something they want to prove.  Maybe their choice, they believe, will rectify feelings of inadequacy or uncertainty growing up.  They insist on proving to parents, a teacher, coach or classmates- or even to themselves- that they can either:

1) do what everyone expected them to do.
2) do what everyone said they couldn't do or

When any person decides to go down a career path solely for the sake of proving something, the path will eventually start to crumble. No matter who the person is trying to impress or refute, the same possible pitfalls occur.  I can think of hundreds of reasons clients come to me unhappy with their current college major or career path.  Recognize any of these all-too-common tales?


The Lawyer-to-Be Who's Just Not Feeling It

"I majored in history in college, which Mom and Dad said was really good for law school.  And they thought being a lawyer would be ideal for me because I was a good student and liked to read.  So, not really knowing what I wanted to do with my life, I went to law school.  I figured it would at least give me some options.  But now I have spent three years and thousands of dollars studying something I really don't care about nor am I really that good at. At the same time, I feel I have to prove to myself and to everyone else that the time and money spent in law school was somehow worth it."

The Artist

"My parents and most of their friends always thought "artistic types" were flakes and that going into a creative field was impractical. So, being a rebel, I was bound and determined to prove them wrong.  I majored in acting, which I enjoyed; however, now that I'm a working actor I'm finding I really don't like it at all.  I hate to quit because that will just prove them right.  But I don't want to be miserable for the rest of my life either!"

The Investment Banker

"My family was really poor growing up and I vowed never to be poor myself when I became an adult.  I went to a great university and majored in finance because I thought investment banking would be a sure bet. However, as an investment banker I'm finding I just don't have "it." (Whatever "it" is.)  I know I'm being passed up for better positions... and it's just killing my confidence.  I feel as if I'll never be able to be what I thought I would prove to myself I could be someday:  wealthy."

Why does the "proving oneself" methodology eventually lead to a dead end?  Because this form of motivation is mainly focused on the self, others' perceptions of you (real or imagined) and past or present relationships, rather than the career path itself. Not only can it not sustain you over the long run, it's also based mainly on feelings, rather than on more objective factors such as aptitude and the appropriate fit of a career path.

Does this mean that you should stay away from ANY input from parents or siblings or other influencers? Absolutely not! People close to you often have some extremely useful insights; after all, they know you really, really well and, if they're being truly objective, they can help you see what your strengths are. Friends, family members, teachers and coaches can give you some really great hints as to what you would be good at doing.

But you alone have the final, awesome task of deciphering which clues are useful for career decisions, and which are just good insights into part of the whole picture that is you. Friends, teachers and family members can't put themselves in your shoes, even if they happen to be in the job you are interested in pursuing!  That perfect/fantastic/brilliant job of someone else's dreams might just be a big old dead end for you. Furthermore, no one but you will be paying for your grad school loans (unless you are super lucky), or hitting the snooze button on the alarm clock when you absolutely dread going to work at a so called "great" job that someone recommended.

So why not take the time to explore what you really want in a career? Ask yourself, what do you care about? What fields you have a desire to contribute to? What ideas do you need to share? Explore where you think you can make a difference, given your talents and strengths and interests. And, most importantly, discover what you want to communicate to others through your work.

I can assure you, as can thousands of other adults who've learned the hard way, that it's well worth taking the time to discover what you have to say. It's a much more exciting and purposeful endeavor than than the tiresome act of constantly trying to prove yourself.