Clean Break

I’ve been working straight for 30 years, and this summer is the first time I have been unemployed indefinitely since I was 14 years old. 

I learned a lot from my very first job:

Pay attention to people.  Think ahead.  Don’t ever stand still.  Go ahead and do the things you think are worth doing.  Refill the mushroom salad quick so those suckers don’t end up swimming in dressing. 

I’ve been a buffet server, a cashier, a retail floorwalker, historical interpreter, bartender, sandwich maker, cataloguer, book shelver, exhibit builder, photo scanner, records coordinator, business analyst, project manager, program manager, customer experience manager, strategic planner, director and Deputy Lord Mayor. 

Along the way I’ve been deeply in love with work.  I’ve volunteered for committees about indoor pools, art galleries, walking trails, heritage buildings and Canada Day.  I’ve lived a life that was crammed full of things for a very long time.

Not working after 30 years of working is incredibly weird.  It is a major life change and as it unfolds this situation is full of surprises.  Did I ever expect to feel envious seeing other people log on to corporate Outlook accounts?  No, but that is real.  It's actually possible to miss how Microsoft’s powder blue boxes organized your day like a delicate game of Tetris. 

I’m trying so hard to focus on the present and the future.  As always, reading helps.  Midway through a potentially lifelong breakup with bureaucracy, teetering on the edge of a very early retirement, I’m feeling fueled by my own interests and knowledge and experiences and all of this advice from books.  They haven’t failed me yet.

A decade ago, Dr. Henry Cloud took a universal and pragmatic look at endings of all kinds and how important they are for growth.  In Necessary Endings, he starts by saying that “The good cannot begin until the bad ends.” 

In his view, growth can’t happen unless we are losing something.  Cloud uses a literal analogy for this, saying we all need to ‘prune’ our lives, or be willing to have some pruning done to us, so we can constantly stretch towards a better version of ourselves.  We should therefore look forward to endings as the start of a new cycle, a new phase or opportunity.

Joni Mitchell would say “Something’s lost, and something’s gained.” My grandmother would say God never closes a door without opening a window.  I might just ask what storey of the building we’re on here, and if there is any kind of safety net out there. 

Cloud encourages us all to begin by imagining the future you want for yourself.  All of your senses should be engaged in this: seeing where you are, feeling the atmosphere, what time of day it is, who are you with, what are you eating, where are you going. 

Then seek out ways in the real world to do those things, try those things and be in those places.  Find people who are living the life you want already, connect with them and walk in their shoes or their shadows for a while.  Find people who are willing to mentor you, or more casually share some perspective on what their worlds are like from the inside. 

Making these kinds of connections will build a team of voices for you, to back you up and surround you through any ending.  You will need their support, to help process some pretty strong and changeable feelings about what has happened.  Grieving anything takes time, and is an ongoing process. 

Cloud warns against rushing in to a new thing too soon by aiming to replace what you had with something similar, as if nothing ever happened.  He advises that you need time to metabolize and digest this experience, using that metaphor literally, as if your body and soul need to break apart and take what is useful, find what you can learn from, and leave the rest behind.  After pruning, and burning, and breaking apart, then you can grow.

This excerpt is from a longer newsletter. Subscribe for more updates at clarecameron.ca