We talked last year about
how every season, every month, every week, every day can be the chance to start
with a clean slate.
Traditionally, though, we tend to collectively do so at the beginning of the calendar year and the beginning of the school year. It gives a chance to ride that energy of possibility.
I’m in an online meditation group with Be Well Be Here on Thursday mornings, and one of the things she suggested on New Year’s Eve was, instead of getting bogged down in “resolutions” deciding to be “resolute.”
I like that.
So much happened last
year, both personally and on a larger scale. It helped clarify what I want and
need in my work and my career going forward, and I intend to implement those
shifts for the year.
I’m making a partial list
of that about which I will be resolute. So far it includes:
–Passion for my
profession does not mean I forfeit the right to earn a living at it;
–“No” is a complete
sentence and does not require embellishment;
–Unpaid labor should not
EVER be part of an interview process – that includes “making a video” for a
one-way interview, pitching article or content ideas in interviews, writing unpaid
“test” pieces, and unpaid “assessments.” I’ll take your tests or write your samples
– at a designated time, and for a specific fee, with a contract in place for it
and a deposit up front, like I do for any freelance piece. Anything else
indicates a toxic work culture in which I have no interest in participating.
I’ve talked about all of
these in the past months, both on various blogs and in discussions. Now, they
are part of my contract with myself, since I believe in walking my talk.
This works in tandem with what I’m doing on the Goals, Dreams, and Resolutions site, which is less about making a list of things to check off this year, and more about tools and techniques for a more holistic work life that is in tandem with personal core integrity.
Life as we knew it
pre-pandemic is gone. While there are things to miss, it also brought
realizations about what didn’t work, and those elements can be changed and
improved so that work environments are healthier on multiple levels. When the
quality of our working lives improves, the quality of the work we do improves.
For decades, we were told
to keep our heads down and just do whatever we were told, and if we were what
was perceived as “good” and “dedicated” and “loyal” we would be rewarded. We
learned through experience that this is not true.
It’s early in the month. I
keep promising myself, every year, that I will be done with my deadlines by
December 12 or 15, and then take a break. It rarely happens.
I had some new deadlines
pile on in the past few weeks, for good things. I’m going to dig in and do
them. I’m going to finish my assessment of my year and decide how I’m going to
structure next year. I have some big changes coming up, including a move.
I have surgery this coming
Friday – unless it’s postponed due to rising virus numbers, which is always
Whether I have it or not,
I’m going to take some time to rest in the upcoming weeks. I want to finish
decorating the house, because I want a cheerful, joyful holiday environment
around me for the next few weeks.
I want to finish the
baking and plan the holiday meals.
I want to rest.
It’s been a hell of a year, and we need rest. Even as we fight to survive every day, because we live in a time where corporate profits are put above people, we need to carve out the time to rest in order to survive.
Part of that rest is not
blogging here again until January 6, 2021, aka Twelfth Night. The start of Carnival
season seems like a good time to gear back up again, doesn’t it? The night the
holiday decorations come down and we dig in for the winter.
Have a wonderful,
wonderful holiday season. Take pleasure in being home. Be honest with yourself
about pain and challenges. Most importantly, survive, so that we can build back
a better world in 2021.
It’s that time of year
again, where we look back and evaluate the year.
The whole pandemic has been
a time of daily re-evaluation and re-assessment. But now, it’s time to sit
down, with pen and paper, and be honest with yourself.
–What worked? What didn’t?
–Where did you feel you
had no choices?
–What can you do to open
–What do you need to get
–What do you want and
need moving forward?
In addition to all this practicality, you need to take some time to dream. This year taught us we can make all the strategic plans, all the three-year/five-year/ten-year plans the “experts” tell us we need – and then we have to throw them out when the unexpected comes our way.
Yes, it’s the day before Thanksgiving, and, even with smaller celebrations at home, most of us are rushing around, trying to get other people’s work finished today so we can take a breath tomorrow (and maybe even over the weekend, if we haven’t begun the decorating frenzy).
Breathe today. Take what pleasures you can in staying home tomorrow, and construct the day so it pleases you. Let the day sustain you, instead of running around trying to make it fit an outdated social construct of what it should be.
This year is about survival, good health, and small pleasures.
I wish you peace, joy, and a lovely meal of whatever food you wish!
Perhaps it’s because so
many people are unemployed, so many employers are feeling smug. Or perhaps the
HR departments simply don’t care any more. But there’s an unfortunate trend in
expecting talented candidates to return to a company again and again to beg for
Yet companies complain there
aren’t enough talented/skilled workers out there, which is simply not true.
Companies are driving them away during the initial screening process – a longer
post on this is in the works.
One of the most annoying paragraphs
HR sends out to potential candidates is the “keep checking our careers page and
apply to us again.”
YOU are supposed to be
Human Resources. That means, if you do your job well (and yes, I’ve worked in
human resources, so I actually know how to do this job and have done this job),
your mission is to find talented people whose skills will lift the company to
the next level. If you get more talent than openings, you court those you can’t
hire in the moment, so when there’s an opening, you already have relationships
with skilled workers and can bring them in.
You HAVE the candidate’s
resume, work samples, references. Chances are, you’ve spoken to them a few
times. In preliminary interviews.
Now, it is YOUR job to remember them, remember their talents, keep in touch or respond pleasantly if they choose to keep in touch with you, and YOU contact THEM when there’s an opening. Not expect them to start at the beginning of the process again.
That doesn’t mean you don’t
post the job again and perhaps find even more skilled talent out there who wasn’t
available/didn’t hear about it/weren’t looking the first time around.
If you are actually in
HUMAN Resources, and not just trying to fill a compliant body into a company
slot, you’re constantly trying to find great talent for a company in which you
believe. When you find it, even if you can’t hire that individual at that
moment, you make sure you keep track of them so you can hire them the next time
or two down the road.
You DON’T expect a
talented, skilled candidate to wait around refreshing your page once a week and
beg for another chance. A truly talented, skilled candidate will move on to a
company – and an HR department – who actually values the resources that make
them a good HUMAN investment for the company.
Skill and talent are
ALWAYS in demand.
Don’t lose the best candidates because you can’t be bothered to keep track of talent. No company is that busy and has that much talent knocking on the door that they can’t keep in touch with great candidates. If you don’t have a system that works well to do so, then change your system.
Better yet, create a new
one, patent it, sell it, and train others to use it.
Remember the HUMAN in “human
If you don’t treat your
talent well, no matter what the field, the talent will gravitate to those who
This is not a rhetorical
question. I’m genuinely asking what you, as freelancers, businesses, and
consumers feel about this.
Why do I ask? Because I’m
tired of every piece of whatever I’m reading lately making a demand.
We’re in a pandemic.
Sometimes, I want to read
something and, you know, get INFORMATION.
Instead of reading
information, but being told that if I want the REST of the information, I need
to buy another book/product/article/whatever in order to get it.
In other words, instead of the author of the nonfiction writing/marketing/wellness/business/whatever book giving me the information promised in the title and the blurb and the marketing materials, I get a portion of the information and have to buy another book or product, because it only does a portion of what was promised.
You know what? That makes
It ranks right up there
with those webinars and “courses” that promise to teach you something, but are
actually elongated commercials to buy something from the presenter.
If it’s a course, TEACH ME
something (other than I was a fool to sign up for it, and now you have my email
and send me marketing crap every day).
If it’s a book that’s
supposed to provide information, provide it.
When I like the writing and feel that I’ve gotten something out of the book/course/newsletter/whatever, then I will continue to the back of the book and look for information on other materials or products by the author.
Because I’ve had a full meal in the author’s restaurant of ideas, and now I want to be a regular.
The craft and the skills of the author, the actual content of the material are what encourages me to buy more. NOT a promise that what I really want will be in the NEXT thing I buy, that then only gives me part of something to lead me to the NEXT book and so on.
When I want to read a series, I turn to fiction, and I like it when each book is part of a bigger arc, yet stands on its own. For non-fiction, I expect it to deliver on its promises.
When there’s an
advertorial in the midst of the text, I am turned off. Maybe I’ll finish the
book. Maybe I’ll put it down right there with the thought that all the author
wants from me is my money, and it’s becoming an unbalanced transaction, because
I’m not getting worth out of the money and time I’ve already put in.
Not only that, I stop
trusting the author or the company. If the only intent of this piece is to get
me to buy more, and not even pretend to give me value for money, why would I
keep putting my money here? And how can I trust what is said, when its only
purpose is to get more money out of me?
Hmm, maybe it IS teaching
me something – not to spend any more money on this individual’s work or this
Yes, I’ve been to all
those seminars and chats where the marketing “guru” insists that EVERY web page,
every newsletter, every transaction needs a “call to action” to convert
potential audience into actual audience into customers.
I’m HIRED to get a lot of
But we’re in a pandemic,
people, and the way we market needs to change. Hundreds of thousands of people
are sick, grieving, unemployed, hungry, possibly losing their homes.
When all we are is predatory, we DESERVE to have them turn away, and we DESERVE to lose them permanently, even when things start to even out three to five years or so down the line (and that’s if we get the sane one elected next week).
When every interaction is
ONLY about getting more money out of me, and about nagging me for it, I back
off. I walk away. I cross that author/business/person off my list. I don’t like
to be nagged.
I like to be invited. I
like to be encouraged. I like to be seduced.
Not screamed at.
Yes, businesses have to
work harder to stay alive. But remember that PEOPLE are working harder to stay
As you craft these
strategies, look at it from the other side of the equation. If someone came at you
with the techniques you are using, would you engage? Or would you slap it down
and walk away?
I am disengaging with more
and more businesses during this pandemic because of the nagging and the
screaming and the constant “me, me, me” from them instead of an approach of, “you
know what? It all sucks right now. How about taking a breath and taking a look
at this for a little distraction?”
Not the “I’m so glad you’re
here and thanks for your money and yes, I’m talking about x, but if you want
the y and the z I promised in my marketing materials, here’s the link to buy
Deliver on your teasers.
Invite and engage me.
Cut the nagging.
Don’t demand I DO MORE
every time we interact. Sometimes I just want to read something complete to
fully enjoy it. Then I want to go away and think about it for a bit. Then, I
will come back and buy more.
If you demand an instant
response to your “call to action” you are telling me that you believe I am such
a moron that I can’t hold a thought in my head for more than 15 seconds, and if
I don’t do what you demand in this second, I won’t remember you.
I’ll remember you just
But I won’t return.
How do you feel about
incessant “calls for action”, advertorials within text, and daily nagging
emails demanding purchase?
How I respond as a
consumer/recipient often informs how I advise clients in their marketing campaigns.
Of course, I do research and use data. But if I find something repugnant,
chances are a large portion of their audience will, too.
Email lists are a
wonderful marketing tool – when you treat the recipients with joy and respect.
But more and more email blasts do just the opposite.
Using the Same Subject
Line With Different Attributions – Every Day
This has been one of the fails
in a lot of the political fundraising emails in this cycle. Saying “I want to meet
you (name) and then pretending it’s come from a celebrity who is part of a
First of all, I worked with actors for decades. I’ve met and worked and enjoyed creating with many of them. The ones with whom I stayed in touch know how reach me legitimately. I don’t swoon for celebrity. Second, as someone who has written some of these fundraising emails, I know the celebrity didn’t write the email, so pretending to personalize it like that is simply insulting.
Third, and most
importantly of all – don’t send the same subject line and place different celebrity
names on it. Not only does it make you look like trash, it insults me and
suggests you think I’m such an idiot I won’t notice.
“I Don’t See Your Name
There’s a quick way to
make sure I delete the email without reading it and unsubscribe.
If you “don’t see my name”
for whatever it is (a retreat, a conference, a petition, whatever), it’s
because I CHOSE NOT to be a part of it.
Emailing me daily that you
“don’t see my name here” is nagging me. I have enough on my plate without being
Bullying tactics don’t
work on me. I deal with bullies in real life by pounding back at them. If I’ve joined
your email list and you try to bully me into doing something, I’m gone. You’ve
lost me from whatever product or cause – permanently.
It’s a pandemic, asshole.
We all have far too much to deal with every day just to survive.
Bullying tactics will do
the opposite of engaging me and making me spend money or do whatever it is you’re
trying to get me to do.
Emailing Too Often
Don’t email me every day,
unless it’s a daily news whatever and that’s what I asked to be on. If you
email me every day trying to sell me something, even if I’ve been a regular
customer, chances are good I will both unsubscribe from your list and stop
buying your product.
Product emails? No more
than once a week. I prefer once a month.
Information emails? Once a
week, unless there’s some daily blast I’ve requested for a weird reason. If you’re
sending me an information email, make sure it’s actual INFORMATION and not just
an advertorial. I write both; I know the difference.
Yeah, I’ve been to those
workshops and webinars, where they tell you that EVERYTHING needs to have a
Call To Action attached.
I prefer to be invited to
experience more. When it’s an invitation instead of a demand, I’ll pay for it.
When it’s just “buy, buy,
buy” it’s time for me to say “Bye bye.”
Email and online marketing
has become even more important during the pandemic. But the smell of
desperation is a way to turn away your audience instead of to grow them, and
treating them like their idiots is not the way to build customer loyalty or
Invite, engage, entice.
What email marketing
techniques are driving you nuts lately?
I realized that last week’s
post was more tied to the piece I’m working on about how employers are driving
away the skilled workers they claim they want than actually about re-shaping my
I’ve re-shaped my career
often. I’ve made my living in the arts since I was 18. Sure, I took temp jobs
and office jobs in between, and even earned rent a few times betting the horses
out at Aqueduct. But the bulk of it was in the arts, and the arts were always
Any job outside the arts
ONLY served to get me through until I had another job inside the arts that paid
me enough to live. Then I quit the other job.
If the job got in the way
of the career, the job was eliminated when I got a good career opportunity.
A PAID opportunity.
NOT an “exposure”
Remember, people die of
exposure. Insist on the cash.
I started in lighting, for
theatre and rock and roll. I wanted to work more closely with actors, so I
moved into stage management.
From stage management, I
moved into wardrobe (so I wasn’t on call 24/7 and could have a life and keep
writing – through all of this, I always wrote).
I stayed, happily, in
wardrobe, working my way up to Broadway, until I started aging out of the physical
demands and decided I wanted to leave while I still loved it. I watched too
many people age in the jobs, afraid to leave, in pain, unhappy, and bitter. I
didn’t want to be one of them.
I moved away from New York
to a place I’d always loved. Unfortunately, it’s a place that supports the arts
in name only. They love it when
prominent artists come in to visit and do special programs and have second
homes here; they don’t believe artists in their community deserve a living wage
to do what they do.
I took a job that I
thought would be a dream job, but turned out to be a two-year nightmare, with a
boss that loved to sabotage anything I did and daily told me that “something”
was wrong with me. Because anyone who disagreed with her must have “something”
wrong with them.
Still, when I was fired
from that job (technically, the position was “eliminated”), I was devastated. I’ve
only recently realized how deep the psychological damage is. The boss tried to
break me; she didn’t succeed, but it will take a long time before the wounds
are just scars.
I went back to a local
theatre for a quick summer gig – bad situation in a lot of respects, and
woefully underpaid, but still worth it.
Then, I worked to rebuild
what I wanted and needed from my career, focusing more on business and
marketing writing, which I enjoy. I love to work with people in different
fields who are smart and passionate about what they do, and I love to
communicate that passion to engage a larger audience. I find it joyful.
All of this time, I was
still meeting contract deadlines on books, writing new books, switching
publishers, attending and/or teaching at conferences, writing plays, writing
radio plays, and so forth and so on.
I found some local
clients, and did a mix of onsite and remote work, although, writing-wise, I
firmly believe the writer does not need to be in someone else’s office. Many were one-and-done, some because that’s
all they needed; others because they balked at paying, insisted I work onsite,
but would not provide me with a professional working environment. A laptop on a
board set over two overturned oil drums is not an acceptable desk.
I spent more and more time
with clients farther afield. I put a lot of miles on my car, driving for
in-person meetings all over New England as I pitched across the country and the
world. Interestingly enough, it was easier to land international remote clients
when I lived in NYC than where I live now. Part of that is the current
political situation, because more and more international companies don’t want to
work with Americans right now. I worked
with a mix of profit and non-profits. I worked with solopreneurs and artists.
Still writing novels, plays, radio plays. I took the bus into Boston more
I was actually willing to
set up a regular commuting situation into Boston, even though it meant being up
by 4:30 in the morning to be on a 6:15 bus and not getting home until 10 or 11
at night. Boston is only 65 miles from here, but the commute can take anywhere
from 2 to 5 hours in each direction, depending on traffic.
On the bus, I could write
my 1000 words a day, and read the books I was sent for review. I couldn’t do
much more than that, but the clients who paid appropriately for my skills were
in Boston, not where I am.
I was at that turning point
earlier this spring – ready to commit to ridiculously long commuting hours for
at least the next year or two.
Then, the pandemic hit,
and we were on Stay-At-Home order. Let me make this clear – people are dancing
around talking saying how we were in “quarantine” – we were NOT. Here in MA, it
was a stay-at-home order. Yes, offices and stores and libraries and museums and
performance venues and schools were closed. But we were not quarantined, and
there was no enforcement. We were encouraged to only grocery shop once every 14
days, but we weren’t FORCED so to do. There was (and is) a mask mandate in the
state, which too many people ignored, and more and more are failing to fulfil.
The positive part of the
pandemic was that, for those of us who already worked remotely, at least a good
portion of the time, and for those who prefer it, it proved that working
remotely is viable for many “office” jobs.
Now that they’re forcing
us back out, without a plan, to Die For Our Employers, those of us who can work
well remotely and got a lot of push-back for it are re-shaping our careers so
to do. We’re supported and encouraged by those who have worked remotely
full-time for years.
It means I can re-shape my
career yet again. I am more productive, more creative, and more focused in my
home office. I have it set up for maximum benefit, in a way NO office in this
area has ever served. (I admit, I’ve had some pretty sweet offices in both New York
and San Francisco).
It also means I can live
anywhere I choose, as long as there’s a good internet connection – and one I
When I worked on Broadway,
I had to live in a commutable distance from Broadway in order to work there. When
I moved, it was a conscious choice to move beyond a commutable distance, because
I knew I wouldn’t really give it up unless I couldn’t physically get there.
I’m also looking at
different types of work.
I’m not a graphic
designer, although I can put together ads and social media posts. I work WITH graphic
designers well. So when I see a listing that tries to give the position a fancy
title, but really wants to save money by hiring one person to do two or more
jobs at less than that one person should earn, I skip it.
I’ve managed plenty of
teams – I’ve been a wardrobe supervisor, I’ve been a production manager in both
theatre and film. I can manage a full production, so managing a content calendar
and other writers is cake.
But I don’t necessarily want
I want to write stuff.
Given the right circumstances, environment, team, and, most importantly, PAY – yes, I’d be a manager. But a lot of different factors would be involved. There are theatres, arts organizations, and museums for which I’d be willing to work onsite, once it’s safe so to do. It won’t be safe for a good long while, especially with the way the numbers are going up.
I’m more cautious about working
for non-profits. When I worked in NY and SF, I often temped or even long-term
temped at non-profits. They were run like businesses and understood that you
pay for the skills you need.
Here? The constant dirge
is “you should be honored we demand you to work for free.”
Some positions that I
would have thought were fun and interesting and exciting even a year ago no
longer grab me. They contain elements on which I no longer want to spend time.
That’s nothing against the companies – they need what they need. But it means
companies to whom I would have sent an LOI or a proposal packet even a year ago
are no longer on my list.
I grappled with this for a
few months. I felt that I was failing, that I was “less than” or that I was
Then, I realized most of
that was the voice of the toxic ex-boss still running a subscript in my
People grow and change,
and so do their careers.
It’s not a failure.
It’s a natural process.
Growing and changing is a
positive, not a negative.
It doesn’t mean you have
to start in the mailroom and wind up as an executive. It means you add skills
and credentials and experience, take that, and CHOOSE what and where you go
Yes, there’s an element of
privilege in that choice, and our current government wants to make sure we have
NO choices and are the peasants to their feudal lords. Which is another reason
we need to get out the vote and overthrow these dictators-in-training.
But deciding to take one’s
career in a different direction is not a failure.
It means you are integrating
all of what you’ve done, learned, and experienced, and turning it into something
wonderful. It doesn’t have to conform to someone else’s agenda or convenience.
It means you’ve outgrown where you are and it’s time to move on.
It also means that when
you find that next career situation, you are more productive and engaged, which
is better for both you and your employer.
One would think/hope
companies would be excited to find enthusiastic, engaged workers rather than someone
who just shows up every day.
You look at your life and
decide what you want and need. Work is such a large part of our lives that how
and what and where we work factors in a great deal.
Maybe you can’t change
your situation today. But you can start figuring out what you want and need, do
some research, and take small steps regularly.
Yes, I’m back. I’m still
working on the article about how companies are driving away skilled workers,
even as they scream they can’t find them. But I didn’t want to be off this blog
for too long, and there’s something else I’ve been grappling with and coming to
terms with over the past weeks that I decided to share.
I noticed, as I research
companies with whom I might like to work, that I’m drawn to different areas
that I was eight or nine months ago.
More and more often, the
title of the job turns me off. I don’t even need to read the description. Or, I
get about two paragraphs in and say, “Nope. This isn’t for me” then click away
and move on.
When a company genuinely
captures my attention, whatever positions they claim to look for, I dig into
the research, find the right person, and send an LOI, telling them why I think
I’d be a good choice for their company, either for a particular project, or in
In the past couple of
years, I’d moved away from that, but now I’m going back to it.
The layers between the
people one would actually work with have become more convoluted. Notice I say “work
with” and not “work for”. That is deliberate. I’m not at the start of my
career. I am interested in “working with” even when I technically have a boss.
The issue of layers is especially
deep when third party recruiters are involved, which is something I go into the
other article I’m working on for this space. I have to say, all of the third
party recruiters I’ve encountered in the past ten years have been a waste of
space, and have certainly wasted my time (and therefore, I’m sure, the company’s
time). As I track the listings for companies using third party recruiters for
the past year or so, I notice they fill a job, and then a few short months
later, they’re looking again to fill the same job. I suppose that keeps recruiters
in business, but it doesn’t do the client companies much good.
As I noted above, I’m
looking for something different now than I even was at the top of the pandemic.
I’m more focused, and less flexible. Part of this is due to a recalibration of
what I want and need out of my work; part of this is that I am not twenty
begging for my first job, but someone with decades of experience and skills. I
no longer have an interest in working FOR a company that does not value either
of those, by underpaying me or by trying to shove me into a position that’s more
about work no one else wants to do than about my skills.
The SEO keywords used in
the position descriptions are just as likely to turn me away from a company as
engage my interest.
(This article turns out to
be tied to the one I’m still working on, about companies driving away skilled
But even when the descriptions
are accurate and the company is interesting, there are roles in companies that
no longer interest me, even though they used to.
In the past, if I was
interested in a company, I was willing to take on tasks out of my wheelhouse in
order to expand my skills, or do something that’s uncomfortable if they agreed
it was temporary. Of course, it never is; once you take on more than your job,
it becomes your job. But if I overall liked and respected the company’s mission
and vision, especially if it was a nonprofit, I was more likely to accept a
broader range of tasks.
That is no longer true.
I know what I want my tasks
within a role to encompass. If the company is trying to cut corners by hiring
one person with strong skills in one area, but minimal skills along a wide
range of areas instead of multiple skilled individuals, that position – and that
company – is no longer a good fit. Because let’s face it, most companies WON’T
train, no matter what they promise. They expect you to figure it out on your
own without additional compensation. Usually on your own time.
At twenty-three, it was an
interesting challenge, especially if I thought I had a future with the company.
In theatre jobs, I was always willing to
take on more, because I knew the theatre was my career, and I would progress. I
did. I made it to Broadway.
In non-profit work, I
often took on extra tasks because everyone was working flat out more hours for
less pay. But after awhile, there’s burnout. Resentment builds, no matter how
committed one is to the mission, because that way of working is unsustainable.
Boundaries need to be set
going in, by both parties, held, and respected. Most managers will keep
assigning as many tasks as they can get away with, no matter what you agreed
upon when you started.
As a freelancer, it’s
often easier to hold and set boundaries. I have a contract that spells out boundaries,
payments, etc. When scope creep threatens, I can point to the contract and say,
“Sure, I’ll take that on; this is how much it’s going to cost.” I can also say,
“That’s not part of the agreement, no.”
But as I’ve been
researching a putting together LOIs and pitch letters to companies these last
months, I’ve noticed what keywords turn me off instantly, or, as I read a description,
I realize, “no, that’s not for me.”
At first, I was worried
that I narrowed my options. I could hear the toxic reprimands we’ve all had at
times: “You need to be a team player” or “Where’s your commitment to the company?”
or “You need to take this on right now to get us through this rough patch” or “How
can you succeed if you won’t do what’s needed?” or “Your job is to make me look
Notice all of these are
demands. None of them are questions to negotiate or navigate new needs as a company
grows and changes.
They’re about guilt and
manipulation rather than problem-solving, which is unsustainable.
I’ve since made peace with it. Trusting my gut
has always been the best choice. I’ve paid for it every time I let myself “logic”
a way out of what my gut told me.
As a professional, I’ve
grown in skills, knowledge, experience, over a wide range of topics. Some of
those skills I enjoy using; others were hard-won and are painful to implement.
Why would I make choices that increase my pain load instead of choices that
make it exciting to get up in the morning and get to work?
We all hit periods where we
have to take whatever’s offered in order to keep a roof over our heads and food
on the table. But we keep growing, searching, changing for what is better for
us and for our situations.
It is okay to discover
that what worked for you five years, ten years ago, or even ten weeks ago, no
longer does. That knowledge gives you a foundation to make new discoveries and
make decisions based on what makes your life better.
Liz Ryan, at the Human Workplace, emphasizes how we are the CEOs of our own companies. That’s so important to both remember and to implement. Right-to-work means companies have made the choice their workers aren’t worth loyalty. So workers need to make the choices that serve their lives best.
How have you found what
you want and need from your work evolving over the past months?