Finding my "peeps"

I'd like to be a free spirit but many days, I feel more like a free-range chicken. I come across as pretty average but if you look closely in amongst the "blah", you'll often see me sporting an exuberant hat, an interesting necklace or a funky pair of shoes. I think it's the free spirit part of me trying to make itself known in some small way.

I volunteered Thursday and Friday at Kingston Writersfest, the first annual literary extravaganza filled with writers from all over Canada and haven't been able to sleep well since. I have breathed up the air from all those free spirits and I seem to be exhaling it during my dreams.

I learned about the axes of writing from Susan Olding's inspiring master class on memoir and have been waking in the night with ideas scrambling in my head, trying to put the learning into action (I would, however, appreciate it if my brain would refrain from trying to do so at 3:00 in the morning). I also confirmed that the reason I feel so exhilerated and anxious all at the same time about writing stems from something many writers seem to share --a need to find meaning in life's events. Oh sure, it sounds simple, but sharing that meaning through words can be really scary. For example, Lorna Crozier's candid description of the day her mother found out--in church incidentally!--that Lorna had written an article in which the first line read, "My father was a drunk" made me feel as if I'd swallowed a burning stick. Lorna had written the truth, thinking "Oh, who's gonna read this anyway?" but someone did and that someone read it to Lorna's mother before Lorna had taken the opportunity to prepare her.

Even if your words don't come back to haunt you, to choose writing as a career is wonderful and at the same time, as scary to me as swimming off the precipice of a waterfall. Now, at 40, I am wading more fully into the water and even though it's a kind of "arm" off my main career identity, it still feels unsettling. Contemplating career change is often like that but thanks to Susan, Lorna and other participants at Kingston Writersfest, I also enjoyed the lovely sensation of being among kindred spirits.

I am trying to hold on to those "career courage" moments. The exuberant hats, funky necklaces and interesting shoes I saw all around me this weekend helped.

Careers are a 20th-century invention and I don't want one

What does "career" mean to you?

Many people differentiate between the words "career" and "job". Why is that? Is it because a career is seen as something intentional, rather than something you do to pay the rent? Does calling something your "career" imply a more serious relationship -- or a connection to some deeper part of who you are or what your life is about?

Alexander Supertramp (aka Christopher McCandless) had this to say about careers: "careers are a 20th-century invention and I don't want one". At least, that's what he said in the movie Into the Wild which chronicles his journey towards a so-called "life of truth" after he graduated from university. It seemed, from his story, that he wanted his life to be about freedom, adventure, and living his own happiness and not about societal constructs like money, possessions, and security.

Maybe it's because I work as a career counsellor, but I don't define "career" with the same limited connotations that he did. In fact, I actually think that despite his eschewing of all things predictable for a university graduate, he did have a career. He worked (cue the scenes where he foraged for food, drove a combine, worked at Burger King). He built relationships (with border guards, with hippies, with harvesters). He developed new skills and went outside his comfort zone (he learned how to recognize edible plants and overcame his fear of water). He did all that in pursuit of a goal that was extremely meaningful to him. I believe those are just some of the hallmarks of a career.

Of course, "career", although it might conjure up those images for some, doesn't have to mean a pension plan and a navy blue suit. And while he is an extreme example, I think that Alexander/Christopher made an admirable and conscious effort to build a life that was uniquely tailored to fit him. I don't agree with everything he did but I can't help but be awed by the resolute determination he found to do what he loved.

Maybe, for you, career is not about burning your cash, donating your savings and heading out alone into the Alaskan wilderness. But spend some time pondering the question: what does "career" mean to you?

Serena Williams, Kanye West and Joe Williams Don't Deserve to Represent Career "Passion"

Watching the news today was disappointing. There was Serena Williams' expletive-laced tirade at a ref during the U.S. Open and Kanye West's interruption of Taylor Swift's acceptance speech at the VMA awards (he actually managed to humiliate two women in the space of 10 seconds). Even the U.S. President wasn't immune to someone's misplaced opinions as Joe Wilson shouted "You lie!" during Obama's health care speech.

Don' t get me wrong. I agree that democracy means expressing and hearing dissenting opinions. But there's a time and a place and as these cases illustrate, it seems that many people have lost their ability to exercise their freedom of expression without being just plain rude.

What bugs me the most about today's news though, is that all these people expressed some level of (sincere or insincere - you decide) remorse afterwards for their behavior and attributed it, at least in part, to their "passion" for their game/music/politics. O....kay.

Hey, I'm in the business of career happiness and I'm always thrilled to hear that there are people out there who are so excited about their work. But is career passion really the reason these people behaved as bullies?

I don't think so. Happy people don't feel the need to take others down in humiliating and embarrassing ways. So all you celebs, athletes and politicians out there: please stop using career "passion" as an excuse for inappropriate and rude behaviour.

You give yourself and--more importantly, from my perspective--career happiness, a bad name.

Butter and Book Deals

Last week I saw the movie, Julie and Julia. If you're not familiar, it follows the journeys of two women at life and career crossroads. One woman is as-yet un-published cookbook author Julia Child and the other is office worker Julie Powell who cooks her way through Julia Child's cookbook over the course of a year, blogs about it, scores a book (and obviously movie,) deal of which I admit, I am just a teensy bit jealous, and presumably, lives happily ever after.

The geeky career counsellor in me found the movie compelling and inspirational. I took away two lessons from these women.

Lesson 1: Doing what you love takes courage...and butter doesn't hurt either

I know. It's not revolutionary but bears repeating over and over, several times daily. So there was Julia Child, complete with pearls and seemingly unflappable spirit, feeling somewhat at loose ends living in France with her diplomat husband. She loved the whole Paris life thing, but eventually wanted a bit more substance to her daily existence and asked her husband what she should do to keep busy. Her husband asked her, "Well, what do you like to do?" to which she responded with gusto, "I like to eat!"

Such a simple statement and yet, how hard to actually trust that this could actually lead to a satisfying and indeed, lucrative career. How often do we convince ourselves that something we love to do is too ridiculous to be a "real" career? I'm not denying that Julia Child had the benefit of a financially and emotionally supportive spouse (always helpful when you're striking off in a scary new career direction) but even when our ducks are in a row, I still think we often hesitate to go down the road with only what we love to do as our guide. It seems somehow as decadent as all that butter Julia used in her recipes. It takes incredible courage to pursue a career dream especially when it's based on a wispy little statement like, "I like to eat" and just because you dream it doesn't mean you get it right away (Julia certainly didn't). But Julia Child's fearlessness and work ethic in persistently pursuing what she loved and working hard to gain the skills to back it up, is something to aspire to. Even in the face of obstacles and at an age where many of us are tempted to throw up our hands and decide "it's too late for me", she persevered. Bon Appetit, Julia!

Lesson 2: Fussing ain't helping and you can't win if you don't buy a ticket.

Enter Julie Powell. While perhaps not as colourful as her French Chef mentor (and perhaps this was the point), I know that many women can connect with the story of a woman who was feeling the all-too-common career sensation of "is this all there is?" at the age of 30 (or 40 or 50). After some understandable grumbling and whining about the state of her life, she decided to take some action. And that's the cool part. It's easy to get stuck in the grumbling, whining stage and never...actually...ACT. But she did. Even better, she quite wisely picked something to do that she enjoyed doing, without strategizing about "where it could lead". She simply came up with a project that combined two things she loved: cooking and writing. In the process, she found that achieving her goal of cooking all 500+ recipes in Julia Child's cookbook in 365 days, was even more difficult than she imagined. She had to work really hard at times to succeed and she had to have discipline and keep at it even when she was really discouraged, tired, and dreading attempting new things. All the while she had absolutely no inkling that she might get a book deal or start a new career or anything so swish. She was simply working hard at something and lest you overlook what an accomplishment that was, think about the last time you worked hard at some new direction for your career every single day for a year in the hopes that it might, but certainly wasn't guaranteed, to lead to something good. Uh hunh.

Bad things happened along the way. And good things too. But I think the biggest career lesson from her story isn't that she got a book deal and moved to a bigger house in Queen's. I think it's that she experienced the joys, frustrations, panic, exhileration---sensation of action when she was feeling career frustrated. Even if it hadn't opened up the fabulous new career opportunities for her in the end, I still think the action served her well because it revitalized her, gave her a renewed sense of purpose and hope. And who couldn't use a little more of that?

Julie and Julia. Butter and book deals. What will you do today to find your own Bon Appetit?