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recreating career management & the pursuit of our own professional callings in a new world of work

Motivation By Pizza Is Craptastic Management

Angry Pizza

I’m here to motivate you.

What moves you to do your best work? To be your best self?

Does it come from an internal drive built on pride and desire for improvement?

Or does it come from appreciation, encouragement, and kudos from people around you? Maybe it’s the promise of a reward. A couple recent studies seem to indicate that pizza and a kind word from the boss provide the motivation we need to be fully engaged and awesome.

If we’re to take this research seriously, then it appears we have come to put a greater weight on outside, extrinsic motivation

Sorry, but that’s screwed up.

But it’s understandable. We’ve been trained into this mindset since childhood. From parents, teachers, and other adults, we heard such things as:
“You’re such a smart girl”
“I’m proud of you.”
“That was great work.”
“Here’s your gold star.”

From these seemingly innocent statements, we gradually learned that our goodness and value came from someone or somewhere else. So unless you were a little hell raising rebel who gave society the middle finger, you likely spent a good bit of time to seek out and earn praise from people we saw as authority figures. (Full confession: I was a born pleaser so I fell hard into the latter category.)

We’re grown up now, but has anything changed? Do we still not chase extrinsic rewards in the form of job approval, public accolades, and awards? Do we still not chase those digital white rabbits of clicks, followers, and likes?

When were we ever taught to take charge of recognizing our own value and claiming it with both hands?

The problem is that when we wait for those extrinsic rewards before we feel we can claim our value, we may find ourselves hanging out there for a long time with little to show for it.

And that’s what’s wrong with the modern workplace. All to often, we expect (demand?) to find our happiness there or else it’s a shitty organization. I’m not saying you don’t work in a shitty organization but in the process of playing the waiting game, we put our happiness and sense of value in the hands of others. And some of these folks may not deserve such an honor.

We are now at an inflection point in the modern history of work. If we want to be happy and fulfilled and fully embrace the soul of our work, we have to go get it ourselves. Waiting patiently while hoping for a pat on the head or the promise of pizza from the boss can no longer cut it.

Understandably, we’re all human so we do desire some degree of extrinsic motivation and appreciation. We want to know that others see and hear us. But it becomes unhealthy when that desire becomes all-consuming and tunes out what our inner voice says.

If we want to be happy in our work, it starts inside each of us. We need to start learning how to say:
“I’m proud of the effort I put into this project.”
“I know that my work has value”
“I love who I am.”

And if we want more fulfilling workplaces, it has to start by helping each of our employees recognize their own value first…then openly appreciating that value second.

Your play:
Stop waiting for someone else to provide your motivation and define your value. What will you do in the next seven days to claim your best self?

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You Gotta Jump

All I can say to this bit of inspiration from Steve Harvey is…damn right.

Jumping off the cliff – even knowing you have a parachute – is scary as hell.

And I’ll be absolutely candid. I’m still falling, tugging at the ripcord. I’ve been torn up and beaten up on my way down. I’ve experienced things that, at the time, made me wish I never jumped at all. But I’m glad I did. I’m glad I took the risk of jumping into the unknown. I’m glad I tried different careers and moved to different places with no idea what was on the other side. I have scars and I appreciate every single one of them. Each one is a reminder that I am alive, I am whole, I am worthy, I am enough.

And here’s the kicker…I do have faith that my parachute is opening. And yours will too, if you choose to jump.

However, as Mr. Steve says, if you never jump your parachute will never open and you will never soar.

So tell your fear – no matter what shape it takes – to go to hell because you gotta jump.

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4 Steps To Keep From Walking Into Another Bad Workplace

Eventually it happens to all of us when we enter a new organization. Sometimes it takes a few years. Sometimes a few months. For the least fortunate among us, only a few weeks. I’m talking about the waving of a red flag signaling our first WTF experience in our workplace. It’s usually accompanied by a feeling that might appear like this:

WTF is going on around here?

Really? You have got to be kidding me.

We all deal with irritants in our work. The sometimes gnarly commute. The copier that seems to drink ink like a pirate drinks rum. The volunteer who consistently runs late for their shift. You get the picture. But I’m not talking those daily annoyances. They’re just the cost of getting out of bed each morning and going to work in a nonprofit.

I’m talking about those experiences that stoke your sense that something isn’t right about your workplace. You might say those are also a cost of working in a nonprofit (or really any job) and you would be largely correct. Since an organization is made up of people, they’re just as imperfect and flawed as you and I are. Usually, we can choose to look beyond these flaws because we can accept them as we might accept our own flaws.

However, sometimes these flaws turn into something darker and more troubling. They violate a core value. Or perhaps a couple of core values which starts to feel intolerable. Or finally they violate so many of our core values that the environment becomes toxic and affects our wellbeing. It’s time to start looking for a new place to take our skills, talents, and passion ASAP.

But how can you be certain you won’t simply walk out of one insane asylum into another? I did it twice in one year and it was disastrous to my mental and physical health.

The key is to get curious about your current experience and learn to identify exactly what sucks. How? I’d like to suggest an exercise you can begin right now.

The first step is to identify and get cozy with your core values. Everything hinges on this because if something has deeply upset you, it’s likely because it violated one of your core values. If you’re unsure or simply want to do some reconnecting work with yourself, there are several sources that can help. Here’s a brief listing of resources which have helped me:
http://www.mas.org.uk/quest/ivp2.htm
http://www.inc.com/kevin-daum/define-your-personal-core-values-5-steps.html
https://www.zapposinsights.com/blog/item/3-steps-to-identifying-personal-core-values

Now grab a sheet of paper or crack open Word. (Personally, I like using a cloud app like Microsoft OneNote so I always have access to the document on my phone and iPad.) You’re going to create a map with at least four columns:

  1. Current Challenging Experience
  2. Violated Core Value
  3. Intensity of Feeling
  4. Questions to Help Uncover

Step 1. Current Challenging Experience
So what’s pissing you off enough right now that you’re actually taking time to do this exercise? What’s happening that is making you to want to run off and sell coconuts along a beach in Tahiti or start an angora rabbit ranch in West Virginia?

For illustration, let’s say a someone in leadership is constantly abrasive and condescending to you and your staff. They have no problems throwing around insults in public meetings. Your challenging experience might be: A Board Member is consistently rude to me and my staff.

Step 2. Violated Core Value
You know your core values. Now see if you can connect that value that’s been violated to the experience.

In our example, we might feel that our value of Respect has been violated.

Step 3. Intensity
This is highly subjective, but can help prioritize which experiences are irritants, which ones you can deal with, and which ones are true value violations.

Respect (at least for me) is one of those top three values so this isn’t an irritant or something you feel mildly. The intensity is High.

Step 4. Questions
Now comes the difficult part but it is a significant reason why you’re going through this exercise. Ask yourself: If interviewing for my current position today, what questions could I ask that would give me insight into my challenging experience? What we’re trying to do here is reverse engineer the experience and identify the burning red flags from our current workplace to check if they’re present in this next possible workplace.

Some questions to ask in your next interview might be:

  • What’s the current relationship between the Board and staff?
  • Are there any Board members who I should work with differently?
  • In terms of how the Board governs, would you say it’s more Advisory, Co-operative, or Managing?

Putting It Together
Your map should look something like this:

Challenging Experience Violated Core Value Intensity Questions to Help Learn
A board member is consistently rude to me and my staff Respect High
  • What’s the current relationship between the Board and staff?
  • Are there any Board members who I should work with differently?
  • In terms of how the Board governs, would you say it’s more Advisory, Co-operative, or Managing?

Keep adding rows of experiences as they arise. And keep adding, reviewing, and refining it. Test drive it when talking to peers inside your organization or friends who work somewhere else.

And when you have an interview and get to put this to work, don’t forget to watch for body language when asking questions. While an interviewer might try to hide what they really think through their words, their nonverbal will likely betray their feelings.

Anything I’ve missed here? Thoughts on improvement? I’m always refining my own map so feel free to share in comments or shoot me a personal message. I’d love to hear how this works for you. Good luck!

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My Vacation To The Lake And Learning To Care Intentionally

Lake TimeThere I floated on my bright yellow raft, not too far away from the dock. It was the first morning of our summer lake vacation and was starting to warm up into one of those typical late July hot southern days. But instead of feeling the peace of being on the water and the relaxation of being on vacation, I unintentionally brought something else along with me. A big, nasty ball of feelings that I had slowly and gradually crunched up in the pit of my stomach: bewilderment, anger, sadness, and more.

Yep, I made the critical error of bringing my job – and the frustrations of the last few weeks – along with me. I wager that every single person who works inside a nonprofit wrestles with an existential crisis at times. I was wrestling with the question of whether anything I was doing in my work really mattered. So there I floated, eventually coming to a point where the constant refrain in my head was, “…I could so care less.” I had gotten to a point where I was starting to find easy solace in apathy. 

Eventually, the slow ebb and flow of the water did its job and I felt my muscles and mind start to relax. The sounds of the birds and the cold beer in my hand led me toward some much needed inner solitude. I questioned how I had arrived at this place where “Screw it all!” was an acceptable landing spot.

I needed to confront head-on the confusion of experiencing this apathy in work that I deeply enjoyed and was exceptionally good at for an organization in which I believed in its mission. What the hell was going on that would make me accept the possibility of caring less?

Then, I recalled something a trusted mentor told me not long ago. I didn’t actually want to care less. My problem was that I was caught in a pernicious trap of caring too much. How is caring too much a bad thing? For me, caring about the outcome of every single experience, every single event, every single opinion in my workplace was exhausting. Further, it only led to disappointment and cynicism when those outcomes failed to match up with my expectations. It was a sure-fire road to burnout and I was on the express bus. 

Fortunately, I was able to pause. I quieted the thoughts about how I should care less or care more. Instead, I started to reflect on how to be more intentional as to what I truly do care about.

Not everything is worth the battle or engaging in the fire drill. We don’t need to actively participate in everyone’s drama. So many things exist far outside our control. However, what we can control is our thoughts and reactions to the daily dramas. When we get clear about our values and goals, we can make better choices about how we want to matter.

Later that evening, I sat on the deck overlooking the lake and spent time with the person I am at my core. I took some time to recall my values and why I returned to the nonprofit world. I sketched out the big picture goals for my work. Anything I could use to reorient me toward giving my best effort to my organization as well as my career. Shortly afterward, I let go a great sigh of relief and settled into enjoying the next few days of special quality time with my family.

By the end of the vacation, I left the lake with what I call my Roadmap for Intentional Caring.

For those of us working in nonprofits (or really any occupation where we know our work matters), the temptation to care too much is always there. And the relative “safety” of trying to not care at all is always there, as well. It’s locating the sweet spot in the middle and being able to get back there to intentional caring when we swing toward either end of the spectrum.

We passionate nonprofiteers tend to be a curious lot who strive to improve ourselves. However, it’s also not always about learning about how to write a better grant or develop a better campaign or host a better event. Sometimes it’s about learning how to look after ourselves so we can continue giving our best and being of use in this world that still clearly needs us to care.

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Five Observations For Surviving The Modern Workplace

Zigzag MazeThis post might serve as some indication as to the type of week I’ve had. One where the veil has been pulled aside to further clarify some observations that I’ve noticed in my long and winding career journey.

1. Our organization is not our family.
This very notion that my organization is a family has always made me cringe. Unless we’re related by blood or marriage or some other legal compact, there’s not one shred of truth to this. Further, it feels cultish, like I’ve joined up with the Sunshine Carpet Cleaners.

Reid Hoffman, co-founder of LinkedIn, goes so far as to say that its one of the worst lies a company can tell its employees. It’s misguided at best and deceptive at its worst.

In a Harvard Business Review article, he elaborated:

In a real family, parents can’t fire their children. Try to imagine disowning your child for poor performance: ‘We’re sorry Susie, but your mom and I have decided you’re just not a good fit. Your table-setting effort has been deteriorating for the past 6 months, and your obsession with ponies just isn’t adding any value. We’re going to have to let you go. But don’t take it the wrong way; it’s just family.’

2. Our organization is not responsible for our happiness.
On the face of it, this feels stupidly obvious. But how many times have we felt pissed off, frustrated, and ultimately unhappy only then to blame our organization for it. Take a moment and reflect on your recent experience. Go ahead…I’ll wait. Hey, I did it just this week. It’s all too easy to feel we’re owed happiness at work by the very organization that feels it’s owed our loyalty in return for a signed paycheck.

However, who gets to determine our happiness? We do, of course.

3. Our boss is not our friend. And conversely, our employee is not our friend.
This isn’t to suggest that the boss-employee dynamic shouldn’t be friendly. But do not mistake that dynamic for a true friendship. The boss still holds the upper hand in the power structure. Don’t believe me? The next time you have the chance to do what you want versus what your boss wants, go your own way. Where your friend may be irritated, your boss is likely going to see it as a direct challenge to their authority. Do it too many times and you’re going to find yourself taken behind the woodshed for a professional whipping.

And god forbid that you work for a friend or hire a friend. The times when this works out for everyone is vastly outnumbered by the times when it ends in tragedy.

4. Our job does not define our identity.
I am an entrepreneur. I am a dentist. I am a diner waitress. I am an assistant to the traveling secretary of the New York Yankees. Or for me, I am a digital nonprofit fundraiser.

Yes, these can all be true statements…and untrue if we believe our job is our sole defining role. The times when I’ve identified myself as primarily a marketer, an entrepreneur, or a fundraiser are the times when I have been a shitty husband, father, and friend. These are also the times when I forget that I am a writer, a hiker, an amateur naturalist, a Steelers fan, and several other things that I enjoy in my life.

5. Our work is not our life.
There’s a thin line between being invested in our work (which is good) and being over-invested (which can lead to the type of obsessive behavior that robs us of strong relationships and our well-being). Over-investing in work can also lead to a type of vicious anxiety where the work isn’t just part of our life…it can feel like it’s life or death.

One mistake can cancel out several superb accomplishments. Then, fear of committing another mistake can prompt job insecurity and a paralyzing fear that just one more mistake can lead to a pink slip. And then we’re marked by the stigma of the Scarlet Letter F – for Fired AKA Failure-at-Life.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. But wait.

If you’re still with me so far, hang on. I’m about to take this whole line of thinking for a U-turn because maybe I’ve got it all wrong. Maybe this is my cynical persona taking me for a ride.

Instead, if I listen to the quiet voice of inner wisdom that whispers in the space where my ego screams, it reminds me that all is One and Life is interconnected. And our Work is a testament to our love not just for our self but a gift to this fractured world.

As someone who has experienced career success as well as career hell, here’s where I openly admit that I struggle with two concepts: realism and idealism. The real provides a protective fence for my ego. By avowing that my organization is not my family, it allows me to keep the group at arm’s length so I can’t be hurt. By acknowledging that my employee is not my friend, I can more easily make the decision to cut him loose with a parting comment that it’s “just business.” Maybe this protective fence is what keeps me from fully living life, fully sharing my talents with others, fully being human (and therefore vulnerable) with each person I encounter in my daily journey.

Perhaps these five “cynical” concepts I’ve described above have the opportunity to be turned around and transformed into something more spiritually rewarding, and therefore more radical in society and our modern workplace. What if organizations can be more human spaces where respect wins over condescension, courage over fear, service over power, and vulnerability over arrogance?

I wonder what our organizations would look like?

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Baby Steps Getting It Done

Baby StepsI’m an impatient person. On a scale of 1 to 10, I’m a “why the bloody hell hasn’t it happened, yet?” That’s the problem when I start to see five steps ahead. I want to skip the first four steps and get right to the end point. And yet, I know that totally ignores opportunities for personal growth and the learning that comes with the sometimes long and tedious journey.

Now, let’s add that I am a recovering perfectionist, which means that I want to make the colossal jump to step five with brilliant strategy, ideal focus, and flawless execution. Kind of like hitting a Dangerfield-esque Triple Lindy with no practice.

Put those things together and you have someone like me who wants to do so much so fast so perfectly that I get overwhelmed by the magnitude of it all and have trouble deciding on the next step. Hello, analysis paralysis.

This tendency (or neurosis if you choose) surfaced at work a few months ago during a planning session with my director. After a few minutes of generating ideas, I was already moving along to what it would take to initiate all the step fives of the master plan for digital fundraising domination. Who has time to wait for colleagues to come on board and help? Who wants to wait for the technology design to be created in order for there to be a shot at success? Who needs to adhere to an organizational strategic plan? Who can…wait, there sure are a lot of things needing to happen…um, which way should we go…oh god it’s just too much I think I’ll just sit over here and stew on this for a while.

Yeah.

It was at this point that my director asked if I ever saw the movie What About Bob? with Bill Murray and Richard Dreyfus. “Well, no,” was my sheepish reply. How could I have not seen this movie? It stars Bill Murray and was filmed at Smith Mountain Lake, near where my wife grew up (and little known fact: she kinda-sorta knows the real-life folks that owned the lake house in the movie). “Then,” she proceeded, “I’m going to introduce you to the idea of baby steps. Baby step to the elevator. Baby step to your desk. Baby step to doing just the first task we talked about. We’ll only get to digital fundraising dominance if we do it with baby steps. And if ever in doubt, refer to the movie.” See, in the movie, Bob is wracked by anxiety and overwhelmed by everything around him. Dr. Marvin’s concept of Baby Steps helps Bob focus on setting small, reasonable goals in order to escape his paralyzing sense of overwhelm.

That photo of Bob above with Baby Steps now is pinned to the wall directly above my laptop at work. It’s also formed a bit of short hand where if I jump too far ahead of plan, the words “baby steps” are merely uttered and I know to pull back. It’s now so ingrained that I toss them back on my director when she’s in danger of leaping forward too quickly.

Does any of this feel familiar to you? I know I’m not the only one who could use a reminder to practice a little more patience and focus on that next small step to get where we really want to go. So next time you experience overwhelm, remember…baby steps.

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On Letting Go and Letting In

Joseph Campbell Quote

I’m really not sure how to start this post. There’s a voice that is trying to convince me to delete it this very moment. My Inner Critic whispers to me in his most lovingly insidious voice, “No one wants to hear about your problems and fears. No one likes someone who is weak and vulnerable and struggles with life and career. No one wants to hire a man who is emotional, fights off self-doubt, bears his soul to the world and is an idealist at heart (besides, you’ll just get chewed up by hungry, focused, competitive, driven professionals that organizations want anyway). So, shut up and stop being such a damned martyr.” Yes, this is what that voice sounds like in my head. He’s a true bastard.

There was a point not too long ago when I would have ceded to this voice. It’s why I didn’t blog for months. It’s why I allowed myself to stay quiet and unassuming. Yet, I recognize now this was the lie of depression. Problem is, when you live with a voice for so long, you hear it softly lulling you into the supposed safety of smallness and inadequacy, it becomes a tough relationship to sever. And that’s where I am right now…trying to be at peace with this voice while allowing for other voices of purpose, confidence, humor, and compassion to emerge, as well.

My past few years have seen their share of ups and downs. They’ve also been full of heartbreaking struggle and it’s largely because I have clung so tightly to my past with its burdens, fears, guilt, and emotional anchors. I’ve lied about what I want from life and ignored my true self fearing the ridicule and judgment of others, particularly in my career. I didn’t want to be seen as weird, incompetent, unprofessional. I chased after work that didn’t fit my strengths, that didn’t excite my passions, that didn’t fill me with purpose but they were in-demand jobs that held the promise of money and prestige. Alas, these jobs didn’t last long and I fear these recent professional missteps – though I learned much in the experiences – could serve as my own scarlet letter in the future.

However, I am also waking up to recognize that all of this I have gone through has been preparation for something much bigger and much more important. I don’t yet know what this is…but I know as I approach 40 it is about emerging into a truer form of my self, one that this world needs right now. It’s about letting go of the past and unmet expectations and letting in the possibility of new beginnings. It’s about meeting whatever comes next with an excitement and a belief that what is emerging has the ability to be a force for good. It means choosing to live a heartful life and commit to work that truly matters. It means being free to be weirdly and soulfully me…and resting secure in the notion that while I may not fit every organization’s ideal model of employee, there are some organizations that are looking for all I bring to the party.

I hope that if you are finding yourself in a similar state of emerging as we move toward 2014, that together we can embrace the life that is waiting for us. If I can help you in your journey, reach out and let me know what you need. We’re all in this together.

Love, Chris

P.S., Special thanks to Licia Berry for inspiring this post.

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Busy Is The New Lazy

The word “busy” is packed with layers of meaning. I see it often used, as the author notes, as a way of communicating importance to the business and elevating professional status. And why not? When economic times are rough and fears of being laid off run rampant, we want some way of reminding the people around us – bosses and executives, in particular – that we’re invaluable and would be sorely missed.

That’s one concept of “busy” in the pejorative sense. But it’s just a word and we have the ability to re-construct its meaning in new ways.

Today, let’s consider new ways of what it means to work and to be truly busy:

  • When we say we’re “busy” what are we trying to communicate?
  • What fears or insecurities does “being busy” mask?
  • Does my sense of busyness include time to also think, reflect, create, wonder, and learn? To make connections with the people around me?

Source: Busy Is The New Lazy

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An Ode To Fellow Late Bloomers

One of my favorite children’s books that I fondly remember reading to my two daughters is called Leo the Late Bloomer. It’s the story of a young tiger cub who learns to do things on his own timetable. When all his other young animal friends are reading, talking, and writing, Leo feels sad and frustrated because he can’t do any of those things well. His dad is concerned and asks Leo’s mom, “Are you sure Leo’s a bloomer?” She lovingly replies, “Patience. Leo is just a late bloomer.”

While written for children (and their worried parents) who struggle to bloom while their peers seem to pass them by, the book’s message speaks to all of us who are still uncertain of our purpose in life.

Now I’m getting pretty close to 40 and the ticking I hear isn’t the oft-discussed biological clock. It’s more like the drumbeat of societal (possibly personal) expectations compelling me to finally figure out my place in this world. When given voice, it’s a critical one questioning why I’m not further along on a career path, not more renowned in a chosen field, not closer to the top of my game. It should’ve all happened by now…right? Is this a sign that marketing/branding/customer experience just isn’t the right place for me? I confess I often feel like Leo: when all his peers are able to write eloquently and eat without making a mess, he’s undoubtedly wondering if his time will ever come.

And yet…

A completely different way of looking at it might be that those of us who are on this journey are the lucky ones. Our longer-than-intended quest for professional meaning and self-discovery can help us to be even brighter and shinier than if we had it laid out for us in black and white.

I do take comfort knowing I’m not the only one who took time to figure out the meaning of their lives in their work. Several creative geniuses showed us that success comes at any age.

Julia Child didn’t achieve culinary acclaim until her late forties.
Alfred Hitchcock directed his finest achievements between the ages of 54 and 61.
Paul Cézanne’s greatest works were painted in his sixties.

And here are a few more curated posts:
Late Bloomers: 7 Authors Who Prove It’s Never Too Late To Start A Writing Career
The Late Bloomer from Forbes Magazine
Late Bloomers from Malcom Gladwell

As Leo’s mom would lovingly advise, perhaps all we need to do is remind ourselves to be patient. Our blooming is just coming a bit later.

PS. Thanks for reading. This post – more than others I’ve written lately – did not come easy at all. I wrestled with vulnerability and tried my damnedest to keep the whininess to a minimum. My hope is that something here resonated with you. If that did happen, then I am honored in knowing it was worth all the effort to write.

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Plan Ahead To Your Next Job

Last week I started a new job as a marketing manager for a software company here in Austin (which I hope offers a sort of apologetic explanation for my hiatus). The first week is always a mix of excitement, bewilderment, and high anxiety. It was also a chance to practice some ethnographic techniques which I’ll explain in greater detail in an upcoming post. But as I experienced the full rush of being back in steady employment for the first time in 20 months, I was constantly reminded of this bit of conventional wisdom:

Start looking for your next job as soon as you start your current job.

In my younger, more naive days, I thought this advice was tantamount to disloyalty to my new employer and a sure way of getting myself blackballed from the get-go. Now, as a (late) thirtysomething professional who has been through the fire and smart enough to see wisdom when it appears, there’s quite a lot of good we can gain by heeding this guidance.

First, let’s be honest…this isn’t our grandpa’s professional world and loyalty in employment doesn’t exist like it did two generations ago. So we have to take care of ourselves and be constantly vigilant with our careers and employment. This last economic downturn should have made that 100% crystal clear. Sadly, it’s a realistic and somewhat cynical perspective. On the other hand…

Here’s where we can take a more positive and forward-focused view. I’ve started to think clearly about:

  • what kind of tangible experiences I want to include in my professional portfolio
  • what kind of stories I want to tell at an upcoming interview
  • What kind of kickass results I want to market on my resume

By imagining into the future, we practice the kind of goal-setting we typically do with any sort of project: we begin with the end in mind and work backward. What this encourages us to do is frequently think about our resume and focus our actions toward remarkable results. And it’s not at all disloyal: we can’t build experiences, create stories, and generate results without completing our objectives for our current employers.

photo credit: Alexandre Moreau Photography (via Flickr)

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