career


I began my career in a fast-paced, always advancing corporate culture.  I was taught that you always had to have a short term and long range vision of your career and of your advancement in the company.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  However, the implicit implication was always that your long range vision must include relocations, greater responsibility, and a never ending assent up the organizational charts.  Remember the Atari video game Q*bert?  That’s what my career looked like.  I just kept jumping around on the squares trying to hit the right ones so I could go to the next level.

 

 

 

Our culture seems to believe that if you’re not advancing, then you are faltering.  If someone holds the same position for 10 years, we tend to label that person as complacent.  For years I held to this misguided belief, but while I was writing my book, I discovered that there is a difference between complacency and contentment. 

 

I can sum it up by saying that complacency occurs when you ignore those aspects of your life related to your mission, while contentment is the conscious realization that you could have more of something, but chose not dedicate your resources toward acquiring it.  I realize that is a cumbersome summary, so let’s look at what happens at work.

 

With my previous company, we did succession planning.  We would look at all of our direct reports and score them based on their ability to move into roles of greater responsibility.  We grouped people into two general categories, high-potential employees (hi-po) and core employees.  Hi-po employees had to meet educational requirements, be willing to relocate, and have good job performance.  The lack of any of these characteristics automatically labeled an employee as a core employee.  When you consider all of the variables and nuances of each employee, I know it sounds ridiculous to have only two categories but that’s how it was.  That was one of the problems I had with Corporate America – in order to treat people “fairly” we had to make hard and fast rules so that everyone could be neatly packaged into their respective category.  This legalistic approach completely ignored the human element.  To paraphrase a speaker I heard last week, sometimes we have to treat people differently in order to treat them the same. 

 

Here is the danger with this hi-po/core employee strategy.  Those who meet the criteria of core employees are often thought of as complacent – they aren’t advancing and they aren’t willing to do the things required for advancement.  However, it has been my experience that many of those core employees were anything but complacent.  They had a passion for their work that their hi-potential counterparts lacked because the hi-potential employees were always focused on what was next.  Why were the hi-potential employees always focused on what was next?  They lacked contentment.

 

In fact, it could be argued that many hi-potential employees are complacent despite the fact that they charge up the corporate ladder.  How could this be?  Look at what I said at the beginning of this discussion – complacency occurs when you are not pursuing those aspects of your life related to your mission.  Many of you have a mission that you are not pursuing.  Instead of being content with what you have in terms of wealth, status, or ego; you consciously choose to ignore your mission and focus on a career that you already know does not offer fulfillment.  That, my friends, is complacency. 

 

 

In case you were wondering how I did in last weekend’s race (see Confessions of the Hyper-Competitive), I am becoming increasingly adequate.  I took 2:15 off my previous 5K time, but am nowhere near catching the 50 year-olds who apparently carry rickshaws for a living.

 

I came in second in my age group.  If you were to tell me before the race that I would finish second in my age group and finish the race in 24:15, I would have been very happy.  But there is a problem… 

 

I followed this other guy who had about the same pace as me throughout the whole race.  I sized him up prior to the race – he seemed younger than me and in pretty good shape.  Plus, he had on headphones, a heart rate monitor, and those Larry Bird see-my-white-harry-thighs running shorts.  I, on the other hand, don’t even own an IPod, gauge my heart rate by how close I feel to vomiting, and wear much more modest knee-length shorts (a sure sign of a novice runner).  I thought that if I could keep up with this other guy (we’ll call him Runner-X), I would be fine.

 

The race started and it was pretty hilly.  I actually like this because the place where I do most of my running is hilly and I think it gives me an advantage over the flatlanders.  I pulled slightly ahead of Runner-X on the uphill sections and he passed me on the downhill sections.  On the level areas, I trailed by a few paces and drafted him.  I read that this was a good strategy, but at the speeds we were running I think this was about as necessary as putting granite countertops in an outhouse.

 

The last section remained relatively flat and I continued to follow him by a few paces.  At the end of the race I thought about trying to pass him, but I was afraid that would be bad etiquette.  Besides, he didn’t appear to be in my age group.

 

When the race ended, I was very satisfied with my time.  My satisfaction increased when the results went up and I saw that I got second in my age group and would receive a cheesy medal that makes a little league participation trophy look like the Stanley Cup.  My elation came crashing down; however, when I saw that Runner-X was in my age group and won first place with a time 3 seconds better than my own.

 

Moral of the story time… we can be very successful in our careers by completing key projects, getting promotions, or gaining recognition.  Despite the thrill of our success, it can be dashed in a second by Runner-X.  When it comes to running, I have learned to set a time as my goal not my position in my age group.  There is no telling who will show up on race day.  If I base my success on my position in my age group, I can become exasperated when fast runners show up or I can finish well below my potential when there is a lack of competition.  Either way, if we base our success on how we do relative to Runner-X, we will never be satisfied. 

 

Success is defined as achieving a desired result.  For this race, my goal was to complete it in less than 25 minutes.  I did that and should consider my efforts a success despite not passing Runner-X.  I challenge you to “run the race set before you” and measure your success based on the achieving of goals that are important to you, not by how you appear to be doing relative to others.

 

By the way, I went to a sporting goods store last night and bought a stretchy shirt and reasonable-length running shorts.  Look out, Usain Bolt

My brother-in-law sent me the following email with the subject line of “money = happiness”.

It may not be comforting to folks who aren’t minting cash, but the rich really are different. “There’s no group in America that’s happier than the wealthy,” says Taylor, of the Harrison Group.

Roughly 70% of millionaires say that money “created” more happiness for them, he says. Higher income also correlates with higher ratings in life satisfaction, according to a new study by economists at the Wharton School of Business. But it’s not necessarily the Bentley or Manolo Blahniks that lead to bliss.

“It’s the freedom that money buys,” says Betsey Stevenson, a co-author of the Wharton study.  Concomitantly, rates of depression are lower among the wealthy, according to the Wharton study, and the rich tend to have better health than the rest of the population, says James Smith, senior labor economist at the Rand Corporation. In fact, health and happiness are as closely correlated as wealth and happiness, Smith says.

The wealthy even seem to smile and laugh more often, according to the Wharton study, to say nothing of getting treated with more respect and eating better food.

“People experience their day very differently when they have a lot of money,” Stevenson says

This brings to mind the famous quote: “Money can’t buy happiness, but it can bring you a better form of misery.”  It is important to note what the study author says about the happiness brought about by money – “It’s the freedom that money buys”.  I talk about the concept of “financial freedom” in my book.  I ask the reader to imagine winning a lottery and to have the luxury of never having to work again.  Put yourself in that situation. 

 

For most of us, the thrill of receiving a windfall of cash has less to do with the superfluous luxuries we could buy and more to do with the freedom of not having to continue toiling away at a job that we are dispassionate about.  We daydream about having the freedom to live a meaningful life, not buying $5,000 shower curtains. 

Financial freedom does not mean that we have enough money to buy anything that we want.  Nor does the freedom from consumer debt constitute financial freedom.  While I was in the corporate world, I was free from consumer debt and I could buy just about whatever I wanted (within reason), but I lacked financial freedom.  Why?  Although I had the money, I was ransoming my time, energy, and passion to continue working at a job that provided the money.  I wasn’t free – I was imprisoned. 

Another argument I will make is regarding the statement “Roughly 70% of millionaires say that money “created” more happiness for them.”  First off, money cannot “create” anything – it can be exchanged for other things, given away, or stashed in a bank; but it will never create.  Second, I think it is safe to assume that the majority of mega-rich are actually doing things that they are passionate about.  Now the question becomes, what makes them happy?  Is it their passion for what they do or the money they make doing it? 

I think the most import factor that influences our level of happiness as it pertains to money is not how much of it we have, but our attitude towards it.  You can have millions and still lack financial freedom if you are allured by what money can buy.  Conversely, you can have little and enjoy financial freedom.

One thing I have learned from writing a blog is to always keep a post or two written ahead of time, so I don’t have to think of something at the last minute.  This comes in handy when something happens and you don’t have time to write (like having a baby).  It’s pretty obvious, but this was written last week right after our first trip to the hospital…

 

For those of you who don’t know, my wife is pregnant and is ready to give birth at any minute now.  To say that she is about to pop is an understatement – she looks like a tick that struck a vein.  She was induced with our first child, so we had a nice controlled setting where the contractions began at the hospital with all the beeping equipment already hooked up and charts drawing little mountain ranges.  This second one is a little different.

                          

She began having contractions early last week.  They started getting more frequent and then subsided.  On Wednesday night, they really got going.  At first they were about 12 minutes apart and not too uncomfortable (easy for me to say, right).   Then she went into this quiet phase where she wasn’t really giving me much information.  I don’t do well when not given information.  I kept asking her what was going only to hear a sheepish, “I don’t know.”

 

I had no idea how frequent her contractions were, but mine went from about a minute apart to a constant tightness.  I was becoming the stereotypical sitcom father-to-be.  Sara called the paging service for her doctor and was waiting for a call back.  Sara was patiently sitting with the phone in her hand.  I was frantically checking bags, packing them in the car, changing camera batteries, making sure the dog had plenty of food and water, taking the dog out one last time, rechecking the bags, checking to make sure we had our insurance cards and identification, unpacking bags to find said identification, repacking bags, reloading the car, mowing the yard, changing the oil, painting the kitchen, milking the cows, and washing the windows.

 

About 20 minutes later, still no call from the doctor and Sara was still waiting patiently with the phone in her hand.  By this time I had whipped myself up into the Looney Tunes depiction of the Tasmanian Devil and not so gently insisted that she call them back.  Shortly after her second call to the paging service, Dr. Payne called us (I guess Dr. Misery, Dr. Anguish, and Dr. Distress were out of town).  Once again, Sara is on the phone and I am outside the information loop – not good. 

 

To make a long story short, although the contractions got down to 4 minutes apart, she didn’t go into full-blown labor and my shortcoming of being a massive control freak was underscored.  For you women out there, that is why men are so bad at the whole birthing process thing.  We have not control and are reduced to bystanders.  Yeah the nursing staff may call us “coaches” but who are we kidding?  Of all the people in a delivery room, I am the least mission critical.

 

Now, rewind back to those moments before we went to the hospital.  I had no control over what was happening, so what did I do?  I created a bunch of busyness to keep myself occupied so that I could believe that I was somehow being productive.  It seems foolish and almost comical, but don’t we do that all the time?  We feel the urge to seek out and fulfill our mission, but to do so would mean giving up control.  When faced with the possibility of losing control, we create work and busyness that we can control however tedious and unimportant it may be.  We’ll generate reports, send meaningless emails, do housework, or start a new project for the sole purpose of being in control.  Remember when we talked about significance a while back?  I think we are prevented from experiencing true significance until we surrender control and stop doing work just for the sake of working and staying busy.

 

Are you overcome by busyness?  Do you spend your time frantically working toward insignificance?  Where are you afraid to give up control?

I love this time year.  The weather begins to cool (then heat up, then cool, then heat up again…), the leaves start to show glimpses of their beautiful fall foliage, there’s that great smell of fall in the air, and I get to torture myself by watching my beloved Tennessee Vols fall to another PAC-10 team during their season opener.  No doubt about it, fall is my favorite season of the year.

 

Regardless of the season, I love those weeks of transition between the seasons.  Whether it’s the fall colors, the first daffodils poking their heads out in the spring, firing up the grill on Memorial Day weekend, or the anticipation of the first snow of the year, there is just something about the change of the season that I enjoy.  I think this is partially because we grow weary of the season we have been experiencing for months (that would be the sauna-like heat and humidity of a Georgia summer right now) and partially because a season change has newness about it – a fresh start.

 

OK, here is where we get philosophical.  That anticipation of change goes beyond the seasons and the weather.  More and more, people anticipate change in their careers.  Look at the number of job changes people make today as opposed to say 25 or even 10 years ago.  There is no comparison.  The so-called “company man” who works their way up and stays with a company for most of their career is an endangered species.  This is partially because people now have little reason to be loyal.  Pension plans are fading away, medical insurance during retirement is practically nonexistent, company leadership changes faster than a three year-old’s temperament, and corporate images are tainted.

 

The other reason that we are so prone to jump ship is because we have a longing that our career is not capable of filling.  More than ever, people find their identity in their careers.  More than ever, people are finding less fulfillment in their careers.  We jump around thinking that the next job change, promotion, or relocation will fill our longing, but it never does.  Sure we may enjoy a temporary change of pace or scenery and a pay increase is always nice, but that deep-seated longing eventually creeps in.

 

This quote from C. S. Lewis explains it better than I ever could:

If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.

 

Let that sink in for a little while.  What were you made for?  If you are not satisfied by that into which you are pouring your efforts, then you were probably made for something else.

Remember those papers that you did in school where you were supposed to write about what you wanted to be when you grew up?  I dug out one of mine (see below).

 

When I grow up, I don’t really care if my job is exciting or interesting as long as it pays well and has good benefits.  I really like sports, building things, and being outdoors, but if it were the responsible thing to do, I think I would spend all day indoors sitting in meetings and writing meaningless reports.  I will probably be happy just to daydream about the things that I like to do because I will make so much money doing what I don’t like.  I also like learning new things but when I grow up, I will already know everything so I won’t have to waste any time doing anything new.

 

It doesn’t matter if my job allows me to use my talents or be creative, but it has to have good medical insurance, a dental plan, group life insurance, and a company-matching 401(k).  It also doesn’t matter if I have to spend more time with people that annoy me than my own family because my family will be happy that I have such a good job and will be happy with all the things I can buy them. 

 

Here is my plan.  After I graduate from school, I want to join a company and relocate my family about 4 or 5 times.  I’ll work my way into a middle-management job where I’ll spend most of my time dealing with employee issues like arguments over who gets to use which tools and who gets to take their vacation when they want it.  I’ll serve as the person who gets to tell the employees what upper-management wants to do and be the face of the company to take all the heat for the ideas they don’t like.  Then, I’ll be the scapegoat to upper-management when the employees don’t like their ridiculous ideas.  

 

After I do this for a few years, I should have enough experience to be promoted to upper-management.  Then I’ll spend all my time writing reports and giving presentations to executives who really don’t know what the employees do.  If I work really hard, I should be able to retire early so that I’ll still have a few years to do something that interests me.

 

I probably don’t have to tell you this, but I didn’t actually write this when I was in school.  I can’t think of anyone who would; however, this is a description of the career that many of us passively write after we get into the working world.

My apologies to Pink Floyd for stealing their title, but I think a lot of people are “comfortably numb” when it comes to their careers.  I remember early in my career how I would let it get to me whenever I had to deal with problem employees or if I got into a heated debate with a coworker.  Eventually, those situations became easier as I learned not to let them affect me personally.  In the business world, that is our way of coping.  We look past the emotion and focus on the business.  Sadly, I can’t even tell you how many people I had to terminate during my corporate career.  I can’t remember all their names, faces, or offenses.  Sure, I remember a few, but for the most part I guess I tried to be like Pilate – “look, no blood on my hands!”

 

I know that when it comes to personnel issues at work, you have to be a little detached at times or you would go insane.  However, we sometimes let this detachment carry over into our perception of our careers.  Maybe there is something that is really burning us – time away from family, purgatorial meetings, or the sense that our lives were meant for more than diligently working ourselves into the ground so that a CEO somewhere can make $30 million a year only to steal from the company.

 

Rather than confront the issues that are bothering us and make a career change, we often choose to be a good little worker and press our noses harder against the grindstone.  That’s why it’s called “work” right?  It’s not supposed to be easy and it pays the bills.

 

What if we did our work because we have a passion for what we do?  What if we spent our time utilizing our talents rather than tolerating our career?  What if our jobs were energizing us instead of dragging us down?  Well, all these things can happen.  But they’re not going to happen as long as we continue to surrender to the our societal default mission of achieving success for the sake of being successful.

Beijing Olympic organizers say their opening-ceremony fireworks were enhanced by prerecorded footage.

If you watched the opening ceremonies of the Olympics, you were probably in awe of the entire event.  At its culmination, the cauldron was lit and amazing fireworks went off all around the “Bird’s Nest” – the main stadium.  I remember thinking that the fireworks were very impressive, but what else would you expect?  This was China, the innovator of early pyrotechnics, and everything that had happened so far that night led us to believe that China was out to surpass anyone’s expectations. 

 

On Tuesday of last week, CNN came out with story that informed us that some of the footage of the fireworks was previously recorded and some of the televised images were computer enhanced (I checked and no, George Lucas was not involved).  Isn’t that just typical of our times?  Whether it’s the opening ceremonies, professional athletes, glamorous models, or corporate income statements, it seems everything we think is incredible ends up being artificially enhanced.  It’s like following the yellow brick road in search of the wizard only to find an old man behind a curtain.

 

As frustrating as this may be, we have made it acceptable.  We don’t care if our heroes are artificial as long as they are spectacular.  I’m not just talking about the Olympic artistic directors pulling a Milli Vanilli on us.  We even accept artificial superlatives in our own lives.  Whether it’s a degree, a promotion, or some kind of recognition or reward, we have a tendency to make the apparent result more important than the mission we originally set out to accomplish.

 

Think about it.  Have you ever undertaken a project not because you truly believed in the need for the work to be done, but because it would give you an opportunity to use your boss’s favorite buzzwords?  Have you ever done charitable work and focused more on being recognized for your humanitarian efforts than the people you were helping?  At your job, have you ever worked to create your own personal fireworks show in the absence of real passion for your work? 

 

Whether we admit it or not, we are all sort of guilty of digitally enhancing how others perceive our lives.  In my opinion, this can only mean that we are not content with who we are.  This discontentment is a result of our failure to do what is really important to us and to follow our passions.  If we would just surrender to our mission, the fireworks would be a natural outflow of our work and not the object of it.

First off, let me take care of some logistics.  I will attempt to put up new postings every Tuesday and Friday.  Yes, I realize it is Thursday, but this will serve as Friday’s posting this week.  Between postings, I am relying on your comments to keep the blog active.  If you have any thoughts you would like to share, please leave a comment.  I don’t mind if you disagree with me… honestly.  I think healthy debate is what makes a blog worth reading.  Just keep the discussion civil and respect all fellow bloggers (even if it is obvious that they are out of their mind). 

 

Today’s topic is a continuation of the Significance vs. Success discussion.  How do we define success?  In my book, I propose that our societal view of success is based on the perception of money, power, and recognition.  Probably the greatest of these is money.  Whether we admit it or not, we have a tendency to perceive an individual’s level of success based on their apparent wealth.  Furthermore, we often measure our own success by how much money we earn.  The interesting thing here is that it may not be the money itself that motivates us, but our need for others to perceive that we have it and are, therefore, successful. 

 

I think this is a reason why credit card debt runs so rampant in our society.  WARNING – If you have credit card debt this may offend you – stop reading and do some online shopping.  Do we really need all the junk that we buy?  Do people willingly pay double-digit interest rates simply for the joy of owning new patio furniture?  If the debt is not racked up in order to enjoy the utility of the products we are buying, then why do people go so deep into consumer debt?  My belief is that people think they can just “buy” success.  If perceived wealth is an indicator of success, then all of our “stuff” is the measuring stick we think others will use to judge our worth as contributors to society. 

 

How does this relate to significance?  I can tell you my experience.  I had a job that paid very well but did not line up with my passions or my life mission (those touchy-feely words from Part 1).  My job frustrated me incredibly and I felt that I was simply not doing what I was meant to do.  The problem was, my job was somewhat high-profile and it paid well.  I felt that if I gave it up and did something that did not pay as well but offered a shot at significance, I would be less successful.  I was choosing perceived success over significance.  How do you let perceived success get in the way of your mission?

 One of the main topics of my book is the internal struggle many of us face when we achieve career success but lack fulfillment and significance in our day-to-day work life (or home life).  First, let me say that significance and success are not necessarily diametrical.  The two can coexist peaceably – particularly when we redefine success (more on that later).  Additionally, success itself is not evil.  Forsaking our passions and ignoring our life’s mission, however, is.
Yeah, I said it.  Passion and life mission are not words that are typically overheard around a conference table.  We would rather use words and phrases like synergistic optimization, ergonomically designed standardization, or team-oriented global front-line implementation… huh?  This is one of our defense mechanisms – rather than use words that are meaningful but uncomfortable; we prefer to use words that are meaningless yet pleasingly sterile.   It’s almost like we try to remove any tidbit of passion from our business life only to wonder why we are so dissatisfied and unfulfilled when it comes to our careers. 
Don’t get me wrong – this blog is not about job bashing.  Not everyone hates their job.  However, my career has taken me to numerous facilities all over the country and every one of them is filled with people who are terribly frustrated with what their career has become.  There are the typical scapegoats:  office politics, bosses with the intellectual horsepower of a Toyota Prius, annoying coworkers, and corporate interference.  In fact, most of us can watch an episode of The Office and identify each character in our own workplace.  But what is it that really has us frustrated?  I mean, if it is our jobs that are so terrible, why don’t we just quit?

This is where the success thing comes into play and the great big can of worms is opened.  I think a lot of us are like Johnny Ringo in Tombstone.  In the words of Doc Holiday, “A man like Ringo…got a great empty hole right through the middle of him.”  There are numerous reasons why a person may have a sense of emptiness.  One of these is that we are not fulfilling our life mission and we try to fill the resulting emptiness with career success.  The downward spiral continues because we know that we are not spending our God-given time, talent, and effort pursuing our passions and this causes the emptiness to grow.  When the emptiness grows, our response is to increase our efforts towards chasing success, which is the very thing that widened the gap in the first place.  Before long, we have a hard time giving up what we call success (money, power, and recognition) even though the pursuit of these things is preventing our sense of fulfillment. 

“Poor soul.  You were just too high-strung.”

 

 

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