Posted by: maureen in struggle, hope, courage on
Feb 8, 2012
Once upon a time I had a landlord from hell, who told me what heaven was. “Where you are now!” he said. “You will look back on this time of struggle, when you didn’t know how or even if things would work out, as the very best time of your life.”
He was right. Actually he’s been right more than once. The last couple of years, for example, have been scary interesting for Darrell and me. This business is not for sissies. Which I am!
I keep thinking of a presentation I gave recently, to people who were wondering how to summon the courage to go after their dreams. “I have no idea,” I admitted. “I go to bed scared every night.”
Like so many of the people I admire most, though, I found something I’m more afraid of--a boring story. I have more in mind for myself than that.
And I hope the same is true for you.
Scary is also exciting…and fun. Take it from someone who’s never sure she’ll make it off the roller coaster alive. Then watch out, because you might get trampled in my rush to get back in line for another ride!
Posted by: maureen in truth, distance, courage on
Nov 23, 2010
The folks at The Career Clinic are fond of suggesting you find someone who has the courage to tell you the truth. It’s the only way you’ll get better at whatever it is you’re trying to do.
I forgot that for a moment, when we found someone who told us the truth about something we’re trying to do.
And, you know, ouch.
I couldn’t believe it at first. Wasn’t this the easy part? Hadn’t everyone been telling us we had this part down? Didn’t I believe down to my bones they were right, that we at least had this part nailed?
Yes, yes, and yes.
But…no.
It stung. Oh it stung. Until I realized this person had a point. Maybe a couple. Okay, fine. Three. You get the idea. A little distance, some rest…and I could see his assessment for what it was, a gift.
Some pretty cool gifts are wrapped in pain, and it’s difficult to see them at first. That’s what wrapping does. It hides the present. This man had erased much of what I felt sure of professionally, but within twenty-four hours I was composing my thank-you note. I am not kidding.
So. Back to work.
As I smile at what I discovered online earlier this week: “You can’t be learning and looking cool at the same time.”
Posted by: maureen in risk, leap, courage on
Oct 26, 2009
I’m not convinced there’s no such thing as a stupid question, and one of my elementary school classmates seemed to ask more than her share. “How does she do it?” I wondered. “How does she have the courage to open her mouth when she knows we’re just going to have another giggle fit?” I knew we were lucky to have her, though, because after the laughter died down a few of us almost always looked at each other like, yeah, we kind of wondered that, too. And guess who probably got further than any of us? Yep.
I don’t think Sally Hogshead, who practices what she calls Radical Careering, would be surprised. She says it’s important to be the dumbest person in the room sometimes. “It isn’t what most people I know aspire to,” she admits, “but think about it for a moment. If you surround yourself with morons you aren’t going anywhere. You’re not getting pushed and challenged. You’re not learning anything. You’re playing on the C team. It’s only when you put yourself out there wholeheartedly and are willing to feel stupid for a while that you’ll make the big leaps. That’s why new jobs are scary. That’s why people often shy away from them.”
“It’s kind of a shame, really,” Hogshead continues. “Instead of getting more comfortable with mistakes as we get older we grow more fearful. The problem is, if you don’t give yourself permission to fail constantly, then in direct proportion you’re not giving yourself permission to succeed. The greatest successes require some degree of risk and by definition risk means you could fail. The question is not, ‘Are you going to fail?’ Failure’s part of life. The question is, ‘What are you going to learn?’ When I interview someone that’s one of the first things I want to know: ‘Tell me about something you failed at and what you learned.’ If people aren’t willing to admit they failed, or worse yet haven’t put themselves out there enough to fail, they’re probably not big enough thinkers for me to want to hire them.”
“Failure’s like a muscle,” Hogshead says. “You have to keep it strong.”