Well stated. If, and it is a big one "if" you need the income of your future endeavor, then you do indeed need to muster all your past skills to create the future revenue stream.
I was blessed. A dying breed. Pension. Not yet the "pearly gates" - but nearly the "promised land" (no future "income" required).
Leadership. It was a skill I learned over my career. Accountability, the ability to shepherd other people's money. First it was a new special taxing district, to fund an athletic facility. We then designed, built and opened that facility.
Go the islands. Always had been a dream. Then an "opportunity" came my way, have the "islands" pay for such a sojourn. We leapt at the opportunity - "stand up a division" was all they asked. Scuba diving became our great, and lasting dividend.
Go back to school. My wife had always dreamt about achieving a terminal degree. We moved back to campus. She studied. I guest lectured. Went back to school myself. Achieved those degrees. Lead classes.
Move to the sea. We did. Found a niche as a regional fiscal officer - Red Cross. Found a niche as a Youth Protection Officer - district wide, 65 Rotary clubs.
Found a niche - spending other people's money on other people's kids. The local scholarship foundation. It has been seven years, we have doubled in size, and scholarships awarded.
Challenge came my way. Assembled a small team. Plotting how to become a state-wide scholarship organization - this one is a biggie, perhaps my biggest.
I learned to use what I can do, to fill a gap in what needs, or should need, to be done.
There is a world of opportunity out there. Take a leap - get wet!
What strikes me reading it is how the setting kept changing, but the capabilities travelled with you. You didn’t have to keep doing the same work simply because you were good at it. You found new places where what you had learned could be useful, while still allowing your life to change. I think there’s something very important in that distinction.
Pia, I can relate to this so much because it names that quiet trap so well. You can be excellent at something and still feel a slow, steady no growing inside you, and that’s harder to trust than a dramatic burnout. The bravest part here is admitting that competence isn’t a life sentence, even when everyone else keeps hiring you for the same version of you. 🤍
I love how you’ve put this, Valerie. That “slow, steady no” is exactly it. Nothing has to be terribly wrong for us to decide we don’t want something anymore. Sometimes that quiet knowing is enough 🤍
A month out of corporate and the thing I didn’t expect is how fast the old competence gets offered back to you. It’s flattering. It’s also the part of my own thinking I trust least right now — I can’t always tell whether I want the work or just want to be the person who’s good at it.
What am I prepared to stop being known for is the sharper question. I don’t have an answer to it yet.
Letting the past have a say but not letting run the show - such valuable advice.
It’s so easy to stay with what you know, what others tell you that you’re good at. But jumping in the deep end, not knowing what’s under the surface, trying something new because something is pulling at you (or pushing), so much harder to trust.
I think that trust is perhaps the hardest part. When the old path has evidence behind it and the new one doesn’t yet, staying with what you know can feel like the sensible choice. Sometimes you have to move before you have the evidence that it will work 🤍
Well stated. If, and it is a big one "if" you need the income of your future endeavor, then you do indeed need to muster all your past skills to create the future revenue stream.
I was blessed. A dying breed. Pension. Not yet the "pearly gates" - but nearly the "promised land" (no future "income" required).
Leadership. It was a skill I learned over my career. Accountability, the ability to shepherd other people's money. First it was a new special taxing district, to fund an athletic facility. We then designed, built and opened that facility.
Go the islands. Always had been a dream. Then an "opportunity" came my way, have the "islands" pay for such a sojourn. We leapt at the opportunity - "stand up a division" was all they asked. Scuba diving became our great, and lasting dividend.
Go back to school. My wife had always dreamt about achieving a terminal degree. We moved back to campus. She studied. I guest lectured. Went back to school myself. Achieved those degrees. Lead classes.
Move to the sea. We did. Found a niche as a regional fiscal officer - Red Cross. Found a niche as a Youth Protection Officer - district wide, 65 Rotary clubs.
Found a niche - spending other people's money on other people's kids. The local scholarship foundation. It has been seven years, we have doubled in size, and scholarships awarded.
Challenge came my way. Assembled a small team. Plotting how to become a state-wide scholarship organization - this one is a biggie, perhaps my biggest.
I learned to use what I can do, to fill a gap in what needs, or should need, to be done.
There is a world of opportunity out there. Take a leap - get wet!
Thank you for sharing this, Keith.
What strikes me reading it is how the setting kept changing, but the capabilities travelled with you. You didn’t have to keep doing the same work simply because you were good at it. You found new places where what you had learned could be useful, while still allowing your life to change. I think there’s something very important in that distinction.
Pia, I can relate to this so much because it names that quiet trap so well. You can be excellent at something and still feel a slow, steady no growing inside you, and that’s harder to trust than a dramatic burnout. The bravest part here is admitting that competence isn’t a life sentence, even when everyone else keeps hiring you for the same version of you. 🤍
I love how you’ve put this, Valerie. That “slow, steady no” is exactly it. Nothing has to be terribly wrong for us to decide we don’t want something anymore. Sometimes that quiet knowing is enough 🤍
A month out of corporate and the thing I didn’t expect is how fast the old competence gets offered back to you. It’s flattering. It’s also the part of my own thinking I trust least right now — I can’t always tell whether I want the work or just want to be the person who’s good at it.
What am I prepared to stop being known for is the sharper question. I don’t have an answer to it yet.
I love seeing where you’ve taken this thought, Ilka. And that question, “What am I prepared to stop being known for?” is a powerful one.
Letting the past have a say but not letting run the show - such valuable advice.
It’s so easy to stay with what you know, what others tell you that you’re good at. But jumping in the deep end, not knowing what’s under the surface, trying something new because something is pulling at you (or pushing), so much harder to trust.
Such a great article. Thank you.
Thank you, Leanne.
I think that trust is perhaps the hardest part. When the old path has evidence behind it and the new one doesn’t yet, staying with what you know can feel like the sensible choice. Sometimes you have to move before you have the evidence that it will work 🤍
Absolutely. Trust and jumping without proof of success. Wish there was a pill for that 😝
Oh yes 😂