Read an Excerpt
Careergasm
Find Your Way to Feel-Good Work
By Sarah Vermunt ECW PRESS
Copyright © 2017 Sarah Vermunt
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-77090-987-8
CHAPTER 1
LOOKING FOR CLUES
I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WANT
People say one of the hardest things to do in the pursuit of a happy career is figure out what kind of work you actually want to do. I agree with that.
Kind of.
In fact, I'd say it's something more like this: One of the hardest things to do in the pursuit of a happy career is admitting to yourself what kind of work you actually want to do. There's a big difference between not knowing what you want and not admitting what you want.
Most of the people who come to me for career coaching feel lost. They don't know what they want. At least, they think they don't know what they want. But more than half of the time — hell, most of the time — the problem has nothing to do with knowing; it's the fear associated with desire.
There's nothing more terrifying than admitting what you actually want — especially if you think you can't have it.
For most, the problem isn't that you don't know what you want. It's that you're scared shitless to want it. Admitting that you want something means doing something about it. It means you're either going to be on the hook for making it happen, or going to knowingly let yourself down. And I don't even have to tell you which of those two outcomes is tougher on you in the long run.
Saying you don't know what you want is easier because it makes you the poor schmuck who's in the dark. But I would toooootally pursue my passion if only I knew what it was. Is that really true? I'd be willing to bet that on some level, there is a very wise part of you that knows exactly what you want.
Some people live their whole lives trying to hide from their own truth. Don't go through life willingly playing the part of the poor schmuck.
Here's what I'm talking about:
BANKER: I've got to get out of this god-forsaken profession, but I don't know what I want to do.
ME: What kind of work do you think would make you happy?
BANKER: I don't know.
ME: [activating stern librarian glare] Is that really true? You have no idea what would make you happy?
BANKER: Yes. I don't know.
ME: [radio silence + raised eyebrow (the facial equivalent of calling double bullshit)]
BANKER: Okay. I've actually always wanted to be a brewmaster, but I can't do that!
BINGO.
If this resonates with you, then, honey, your problem is not that you don't know what you want. It's that you're afraid to want it. And those are two very different things.
Think the banker-turned-brewmaster example is far-fetched? Think again. A client of mine made that exact transition. And he did it several years into his profession, and while raising two young boys. He even took a crappy minimum wage job at a brewery one summer, so he could learn the industry. He was paying the nanny more per hour to watch the kids than he was making. If you're afraid to let yourself want what you want because you think you can't have it, just remember the banker-turned-brewmaster.
Consider the following question, and answer it honestly:
Are you really as lost as you think you are, or are you just afraid?
Maybe that question feels like a relief to you. Maybe you're thinking, OMG, deep down I DO know what I want, but I don't know how to get it. I'm terrified!
Or maybe that question really pisses you off. Maybe you're thinking, Listen, lady, you have no idea how much I've struggled with this. I really DON'T know what I want, and I'm trying reallyfucking hard to figure it out. If this is you, hang in there. I'm going to help you return to the part of yourself that knows.
If you truly don't know what you want, chances are you lost touch with your desire somewhere along the way. At some point in time, you pushed that desire waaaaay down to a place where you're now able to tell yourself, convincingly, that you don't know what you want. Maybe you did this after college, or when you started a family. Maybe earlier. Maybe you pushed that desire down when you were an anxious teenager worried about your future, or when you were an obedient child trying your best to show your parents love and gratitude, no matter the cost. You may have pushed that desire down so long ago that you don't even know how to access it anymore.
But it's there. And if you're willing, I can help you find it.
AND THE SURVEY SAYS ...
Have you ever taken one of those aptitude inventories that tells you what you should be when you grow up? You know the kind. Based on this 10-minute survey, you're destined to be either an accountant or a lion tamer!
These types of assessments can be comforting and are sometimes a good starting point, but without some more introspection they're also often the reason why people get stuck in the wrong career. When it comes time to make a career decision, many people take the easy road and do what an assessment tells them to do, with little further inquiry.
Maybe you took that road, too. Maybe you picked your career based on what you were told to do by a career inventory, or an aptitude test, or a personality assessment ... or a guidance counselor, friend, parent, spouse, teacher, or mentor. These people all probably had the best of intentions, but they had no real way of knowing what's best for you. Only you know that.
On the one hand, that's awesome! As Glinda the Good Witch would say, "You had the power all along!" On the other hand, Holy pressure, Batman. That's why so many people cave to someone else's career advice:
It seems easier. But sometimes the easy road actually gets you lost, even when you follow directions and do everything "right."
Have you ever done that? Followed someone else's directions only to get lost? It's infuriating. You probably could have done your own navigation and been just fine, but it seemed safer, more prudent, to get directions from someone else, just to make sure you're going the right way. Then when you get lost, you think, WTF?! I thought these directions were supposed to get me where I wanted to go!
Sometimes you take direction from others and get exactly where you were supposed to go — only when you get there, it looks nothing like you thought it would. You think, This is it? THIS is the place I've been working so hard to get to? What a letdown. You want to get the hell out of there, but you have no idea which way to turn. You've "arrived," but you're also lost.
If you're feeling lost in your career, chances are you'll have to dig a little deeper to see which path is best for you.
When a highway is about to be resurfaced, first the road has to be milled — you have to dig beneath the surface and expose what's underneath to make a foundation so the new road will actually stick. The milled road is kind of bumpy and corrugated, like corduroy. The old road has to be ground away before the new one can be laid.
It's the same for buildings. You have to dig beneath the surface to build a foundation. This is the most important step. If you get the foundation wrong, you can't properly support what you build.
What do roads and buildings have to do with your career? On the off chance that you're in construction, lots. On the more likely chance that you're not, this: If you want to build something that will last, you're going to have to dig deep first.
You need to get in touch with what you actually want. What you want will be different from what I want, and what your mother wants, and what your best friend wants. That's why following someone else's advice (whether it's dispensed by your dad or a guidance counselor or a sophisticated career assessment) doesn't always work. You are unique: Nobody but you can get it right.
We're not meant to be pigeonholed: You're one of a kind, and your career should be, too.
ACTIVATE YOUR INNER TODDLER
If you have a toddler, or know one, or were one once, you know that they are not shy about expressing their feelings. They can go from squeals of delight to a raging hissy fit in 10 seconds flat ... and vice versa.
A new Spiderman action figure? Pure joy! But ask him to share it with his little sister, and you've got a miniature Godzilla on your hands.
Toddlers aren't very concerned with social norms. They wear their feelings on the outside. They're still relatively new to the planet, so they haven't picked up all of the rules yet. And is that really such a bad thing?
As adults, we play by the rules and do what's expected of us. We're polite, proper, and professional. We don't do a happy dance in the middle of a crowded street. We don't cry and kick and scream in a vocal range audible only to dogs.
Well, aren't you a little bit sick of that? Aren't there times when you want to kick and scream and make a scene because you have to do something you hate? And aren't there times when you want to squeal with delight and do a goofy little jig, but you don't because you're afraid people will think you've flipped your lid?
When it comes to your career — and, hell, when it comes to life — I think we'd be better off if we embraced our inner toddlers a little more often.
Now, I'm not suggesting that you call your boss a poo-poo head (if you must, please line up another job first), or pout and stomp around when you don't get that promotion (okay, maybe in private). I'm simply suggesting that you notice what makes you want to throw a raging fit. Notice what makes you want to squeal with delight. These are MAJOR clues on the path to feel-good work.
A friend of mine is a business consultant with a big firm. They have lots of rules — even rules about her shoes. She's allowed to wear pointy-toed high heels, but not square-toed ones. When I hear this, I think, OMG, kill me now. I would never survive there. That is just too many rules for me — not to mention ridiculous.
Stupid rules make me want to throw a hissy fit. Other things on my hissy fit list include pointless meetings, mindless small talk, annoying jargon, networking events, and boring research journals. All of these things make me want to throw myself on the ground and carry on like a toddler who's just been told it's time to leave the splash pad.
What's on your hissy fit list? Think about it. What rules do you long to stop following? What do you wish you never had to do again? What makes you want to flop around like a fish in the candy aisle of a crowded grocery store?
Go ahead and make a list. Include things from your work life that you hate, but feel free to add other things, too. Non work-related things on my hissy fit list: wine (I've tried to like it for years, but I think it's gross and I'm sick of trying to like it just because everyone else does) and messy spaces (the thought of curling up and watching Netflix in a room with yesterday's dirty dishes within sight gives me hives).
Now, let's look at the other side of the inner toddler spectrum: squeals of delight. What lights you up? What makes you feel like a kid with a bag of Skittles and a Kool-Aid-stained grin?
I'm talking about work things and non-work things. Some things on my squeals of delight list: bright nail polish, rivers and mountains, alone time, pretty stationery, writing, deep conversation, beautiful design, organizing, planning, nurturing others, problem solving, and working with delightful people one-on-one.
If you look at both of your lists, you'll probably notice some themes. Don't expect a specific job title to pop out at you. We're not there yet. Just look at your lists and see if any themes emerge.
Need some help? I'll show you what I mean. Let's take a look at my own lists.
My hissy fit list tells me that I'm reeeeeally not into shallow connections or interactions. It also tells me that I'm not into traditional corporate stuff, and that doing something just because it's conventional makes me feel like crap.
My squeals of delight list suggests that I like things that are fun and a little bit kooky. I'm also a visual person. Art and design matter to me. And space and nature make me feel good.
Return to your own lists and see what you can learn. It should be obvious, but I'll go ahead and say it anyway: Put some distance between yourself and the stuff on your hissy fit list, and move toward the things that feel like pure delight.
But I can't stop doing the things I hate! That would mean a total overhaul!
Uh ... yeah. Maybe that's exactly what you need.
And I can't devote more time to stuff I love. It's not practical! People will think I'm nuts!
Dude. Who cares? This is your life we're talking about. You're supposed to enjoy it. It's time you took your life back. Embrace your inner toddler. Live a little. I'll meet you by the splash pad.
CHILD GENIUS
You may feel like you've lost your connection with the things you used to be passionate about. You might even forget what they were. But you can reconnect with some of your natural passions if you look back far enough into your past. Like, waaaaay back, to when you were eight years old. There's career navigation gold back there.
What did you love to do when you were eight?
Seriously, think about it.
When I was eight, I loved to play teacher. I loved to organize lessons and I loved to give away stickers. Okay, maybe it was mostly about the stickers. I had a pretty awesome sticker collection. My favorite one smelled like grape.
I loved taking care of animals, too. Kittens, in particular. There's a photo of me as a kid on my tricycle with a sandcastle bucket dangling from the handlebars and a kitten tucked into the bucket. That poor kitten was probably terrified, but my heart was in the right place.
I also loooooved to make stuff. Any stuff. Crafts were my thing. I made things with pipe cleaners and beads and brought them to craft shows with my mom. Bless the kind little old ladies who paid me a quarter for them. It made my heart soar.
What games and activities did you love as a kid? These things will have no obvious connection with your career, and that's okay. My pipe-cleaner-and-bead doohickey hobby was not exactly scalable, and as of yet I have been unable to build a viable business giving tricycle rides to kittens (still crossing my fingers, though).
Forget about the career implications for now, and just think about the stuff you used to love as a kid. Can't remember? Ask a parent or sibling. Other things on my own list include coloring, reading, writing stories and plays, sewing my own scrunchies, making collages, and looking for critters in the creek (pronounced "crick," if you want to say it the proper country girl way). Some of my clients say their favorite things were Legos, puzzles, building sandcastles, baseball, soccer, playing dress-up, making forts, painting, playing cops and robbers.
When you think about the stuff you loved as a kid, do you see any themes emerge? What are your childhood passions trying to tell you? For example, is a lot of that stuff creative? Outdoorsy? Analytical? Nurturing? Solitary? Social?
Does it involve building? Problem solving? Logic? Using your hands? Helping people? Making something? Adventure? Imagination? You see where I'm going with this.
Themes like these are clues for finding a feel-good career. If you loved it when you were eight, chances are there's something you love about it still.
Also try to remember what things you were most proud of. My standout moments include a second-grade story about the Easter Bunny and a pair of Air Jordan shoes, and writing and performing in a bunch of student council skits, in which I usually cast myself as either Dr. Evil from Austin Powers or Brain from Pinky and the Brain.
Were you a star athlete? An artist? A musician? An actor? An entertainer? A builder? A leader? An advocate? A nurturer? A change-maker? A creative thinker? A communicator? A public speaker? A debater? A researcher? A writer? A scientist? A designer? An organizer? A relationship builder? A director? A documentarian? An academic?
What exactly were you proud of, and why? Think of a few examples.
Now, I took pride in my Easter Bunny Air Jordan story and my wacky plays based on '90s characters, not because I was destined to do that forever, but because there's a connection to creativity and writing there. As it turns out, those things are really important for me in my career.
If there's a unifying theme that emerges and links some of the things you were proud of as a kid or a teenager, it means something — even now, all these years later.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Careergasm by Sarah Vermunt. Copyright © 2017 Sarah Vermunt. Excerpted by permission of ECW PRESS.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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