Coporate Exit - Update Part 1

AC(12of43).jpg

The other day I met with one of my favorite people from my corporate days. As we were catching up, she was like, "Um, I don't think people know this is what you're doing now. Why don't you write an update blog?" Of course, this was a fantastic idea. So thanks to T, here is part 1 of my update. 

As I reviewed part 4 of my exit story this morning, the date of that post struck me. I didn't know it at the time, but my newly established professional life was about to get rocked in many ways. So let me tell you what's been happening since I last updated you. 

In late September, I went to Las Vegas for back to back events. The first event was relevant to my coaching business, and the second was for my network marketing business. I had very much been looking forward to the trip. I had the opportunity to meet and network with many new and like-minded people, and I was getting the chance to finally meet members of my network marketing team I had never met in person before. It turns out that week was pivotal for me, although I didn't realize it until a little later. 

After the first event ended, I had moved from one hotel to the next, preparing for a couple of days of down time before event #2. I was exhausted from 3 packed days and had been debating whether to walk around a bit and get some air, or hole up in my room, watch a movie and get some sleep. The latter option sounded fantastic to me, so I let my husband know I was in my room for the night and went to bed. 

That was the night of the mass shooting at Mandalay Bay, which I could see from my hotel room window. 

I had no idea what was happening, of course. The intercom in the hotel came on a couple of times and people were directed to stay in their rooms, but I figured someone had lost a little too much money at a table in the casino, was losing it, and it was a safety precaution to keep people out of the fray. When I woke up at 6 am Pacific time, I had dozens of messages on my phone. The first of which was an alarming "Please tell me you're okay." Still having no idea what had happened, I turned on the TV, put on the news, and went into shock. 

I can't tell you what a surreal and heartbreaking experience it was to be there. All I wanted was to get on the first plane home. I felt desperate for my children. I was devastated, as were so many there and across the country, at this senseless act that robbed people of their lives at what was supposed to be a fun event. It felt like nothing was sacred. It was bizarre to be on the strip and see it almost desolate. People weren't out in full force the first couple of days. There were police EVERYWHERE. But by day 3, things seemed pretty normal. The second event went on as planned, people came into the city to have fun as planned, and life went on. As it should be, because fear should never rule the way we live. But internally, I wasn't ready. I didn't feel like having fun. I didn't want to be there. It was like sensory overload, a complete mismatch between how I felt inside and the environment that surrounded me on the outside. 

I hung in there, met my amazing team members, did a fun photo shoot, and returned home at the end of the week, incredibly grateful to be home safely and to see my family again. I had my first public speaking opportunity at the end of October, so I put my head down and got to preparing for that. I've presented many, many times in my life. It was a key part of what I did in my corporate role, but this was so different. It was the first time I was going to present my own content, and I was so nervous. 

That first speaking event changed my life. 

For the first time ever in a presentation, I got to be 100% me. I told my story, shared my thoughts on how to process where you are, where you want to be, what stops people and how to start moving forward. I talked about our programming, the patterns we get stuck in, the role of our egos and fear in keeping us stuck. And I had the attention of every single person in the room. People wanted to talk to me afterwards. I got messages from people I hadn't met directly who said they were there and wanted to thank me for saying words that they needed to hear at that particular point in their lives.

It was incredibly humbling. It felt like the final number in a combination lock had clicked into place. I knew then and there that I had found my purpose. I had suspected it was my calling when I left my job, but at that moment Certainty walked in, cool and calm as can be, sat down, crossed its legs, checked out its nails, looked at me and said "Yep."

That trip to Las Vegas was pivotal to my preparation for that day. Some part of me felt like I owed it myself and the people who lost their lives to put myself out there full on, because they would never get that chance. And I have no guarantees, either; none of us do. And it wasn't just about me anymore. The fact that people said my words helped them meant I had no right to keep them to myself. 

That day triggered a series of opportunities and events that have been nearly stunning to me. The speed of the forward momentum is exhilarating (and I can't wait to share in a future post how everyone can create and find this kind of momentum!), and not without it's nerves. The irony is that all of this forward motion has been largely hidden from my public life. I stopped posting on Instagram and Facebook. I didn't realize until T reminded me that my feed continued to grow as I was tagged by others, but most of those posts are related to the network marketing business, and it made it seem as if that has been my focus. It hasn't, not because it's not an awesome company or group of people, but it's not aligned with *my* true purpose. 

And so, true confession: I don't like social media. I never have. Part of why I joined the network marketing business was to get better at it, to see if being better at it would make me feel differently. It definitely got easier, but not natural for me, as it is for so many of the amazing people I've met through that business. And after Vegas and my first talk, I decided in order to really be true to myself and what I intend to create in my life, I needed to drop focus on that and continue creating in-person connections, which does energize me and come naturally.

But now it's time to become visible again, in the balanced way that works best for me. I have so many exciting things to share about what I'm doing now and what's coming next...Part 2 of my update coming very soon!

Photo credit: Naomi Read Photography

 

Don't feed the loop of doom.

devon-janse-van-rensburg-203416.jpg

Do you ever say to yourself "I shouldn't have [fill in the blank]?" 

"I should never have trusted Mary."
"I shouldn't have married your father."
"I shouldn't have accepted that invitation."
"I shouldn't have taken that job."

Hindsight is 20/20. 

We spend waaaay too much time regretting decisions we've made. And why is that? You make decisions based on the information and experience you have at the time. Can you predict the future? Do you have any idea how something is going to turn out.? No, of course you don't. Yet so often we think that the key to making a decision is knowing the outcome. 

Uh, hello? How can you possibly know the outcome of something before you've actually done the thing you're deciding to do? And if knowing the outcome is something you think you need to have when making a decision, you're screwed. I hate to break it to you, but you'll never know. You can make educated guesses and project, but you don't really know. Not for sure. And it's important you rid yourself of that expectation if you don't want to remain paralyzed by indecision. 

When thinking about triggering situations and circumstances, you have to be incredibly mindful about the way you process your emotions. Emotions operate on a feedback loop. The more you feel something, the more you're going to feel it. For example, if when you get angry, you give vent to your rage - scream, yell, cuss up a storm - and allow it to swallow you up, you're going to get angrier and stay angry longer if you aren't careful to constructively express your anger. You are human and you are going to experience emotions. Anger is actually a really helpful one if you harness it correctly. But freaking the eff out just to freak the eff out doesn't serve you.  The same holds true for feeling hurt, regret, frustration, etc. The more you stay in the place of immersion in the emotion, the more likely that you'll get stuck there and the emotion will continue to feed on itself.

Instead, place a limit on it. Say to yourself "I'm really [insert emotion here] right now and I'm going to give myself 5 whole minutes to lose my shit then I'm going to process what I got out of this." 

Regret is a complete and utter waste of your time. Instead of spending time browbeating yourself for making a decision that led to a less than ideal outcome, take some time to process what you *gained* from the situation. There's pretty much no chance at all that you didn't learn something. You learned something from whatever experience you now feel you shouldn't have had. Staying in regret places you in a victim mindset. You think of it as something that happened to you instead of an experience that provided you with a valuable understanding.

An experience that you participated in, by the way. You made a choice that put you on that path, whatever it is. Own it, make the most of it, and move on from it. 

Important note here. Positive emotions operate on a feedback loop, too. The more you allow yourself to feel good, the better you're going to feel. We place too much emphasis on the negative and don't bask enough in the positive. You're in control of you react and how good or bad you feel. 

Take some time to think about a regret that's been eating you and do the exercise above. Let it go so you can move on to bigger and better things. 

Photo by Devon Janse van Rensburg

And...I'm out. Corporate Exit Part 4.

And...I'm out. Corporate Exit Part 4.

There I was, with a clear understanding that I was in a dead-end job. Not from a career advancement perspective, but from a mental and emotional perspective. Sadly, as I climbed the corporate ladder, how I felt about what I spent time doing each day tanked in inverse proportion.

I've made it! Corporate Exit Part 3

MAKI06212017_2350.jpg

If you haven't already, please check out part 1 and part 2

Again, I must make it clear these thoughts are my own - my opinions, point of view, and thoughts on my experience.

So there I was, in my holy grail of roles. Predictably, it was an incredibly busy time. Transitioning into a role with a lot of direct reports and in an organization that was undergoing change in general was a lot to take in, but generally I was excited and energized by the adjustment.

Before long, I realized I had taken on a very sick team. What had looked like success from the outside was actually a bizarre kind of denial that was hard to process. The most frequent comment I got at the beginning was some variety of "good luck with that" when they learned which team I had inherited. In addition to a couple of highly toxic people, there were a decent number operating a level that demanded being put on a professional development plan at the very least.  

It was a highly frustrating fact of corporate life that among the sharp ones, there were a lot of people coasting through their days, operating at a breathtaking level of mediocrity that would have left me in a pile under my desk in a fog of self-loathing. I couldn't comprehend it. Most challenging of all was how badly it affected the high-performing, excellent associates who had a bigger burden to carry because they had team members who wouldn't carry their weight, spread their negativity like a virus and brought the morale down to the gutter.

The only thing I could do was focus on the people. My sense of justice and fairness demanded that I take care of them first, and that made me a target. Standing up for my team was viewed as a liability, because I didn't meekly comply with the orders as they came down. Privately, I was asked to tone it down and to be careful of the perception of myself I was creating. It was maddening. People were not viewed as people, but as resources. The fact that many of them had been high performers for years didn't seem to translate to any kind of respect or consideration for what they wanted for their own careers.

This awareness was unsettling. When I looked around at the leaders above me, my peers in similar roles and the folks on my team, I didn't see anything that I wanted. In fact, all I could see was what I didn't want. I didn't know a single person who described themselves as fulfilled in their work. 

I had always wanted a role like this because I was excited about learning how to run a business, manage a team, innovate and get big projects to completion. I couldn't have predicted the reality, which was that a strange combination of low and unrealistic expectations from above coupled with no authority to make decisions on my own would effectively render me a useless cog in a massive wheel. 

The 4th and final part coming up...

I'll just switch roles! Corporate Exit Part 2

To pick up where I left off, in late 2013, things were okay. I was in a role I'd been doing for about 18 months, and I was mentally ready to move on. It's fascinating to consider the kind of advice you get about career trajectory and considerations for how to make a change. It was an integral part of the culture at my company that you could change roles after you'd put in your 18 months. It was seen as an advantageous part of corporate life. Once you got experience doing something, you could jump to something else.

How did I get here? Or Corporate Exit Part 1

I knew something wasn't quite right. There I was, a little over 9 years into my corporate career, and something was...off. I was struggling with secondary infertility (a post for another time), getting ready to move into a home I had dreamed of, working for a mentor I adored, doing a job that was aligned with what I thought I always wanted, and my general feeling about my daily life was "meh." I didn't hate it, but I definitely didn't love it. And mostly I was bored. And if you know me at all, boredom is the WORST. Thing. Ever.