The Career Clinic Blog

My favorite question of all time comes from Gregg Levoy, author of Callings: “If your life passed before your eyes, would it hold your interest?”

My second favorite question is, “What if...?”

I now have a third favorite question, courtesy of Anne Lamott: “Why am I talking?” It’s one way she strives to be a good mother-in-law, by asking herself that constantly.

You want to be more fun to be around--at work, at home, inside your head? Stop talking! Let someone else talk. Let someone else have the floor.

I didn’t realize how important this is until I became a talk show host. My job isn’t to talk. It’s to listen.

You’ve probably heard the parental refrain: “Be still.”

I’m beginning to think it’s the secret to life.

Better stop there, eh?

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“Spending Friday night the same way I have been for more than three years--on show prep. I love it more every week! Is that okay to admit?”

The last line didn’t make it to Twitter. Not because I would’ve exceeded 140 characters, but because one of my editors (read: Darrell) nixed it. “You don’t have to apologize for enjoying your work. Isn’t that the whole point of your work?”

He had a point.

It made me realize how often I backpedal to keep from offending people. As if they’re paying attention! But just in case. And nothing offends, judging from the comments on blogs that get more traffic than mine, like success or even happiness.

Career consultants suggest you notice what you’re sensitive about--to help steer you toward work that’s meaningful. I’m sensitive to disapproval. I can pick up on it practically before I’ve met you, and it used to bother me a lot.

It still bothers me, sometimes a lot. But with the help of blogger Chris Brogan’s pal Julien Smith--by way of Twitter, by the way--I’ve become more pragmatic. “When people don’t like you,” Julien says, “nothing actually happens.”

Now I’m happy if you don’t pick fights. Be reasonably nice to my face, we’re covered!

I’ll still tone the happiness down, just in case--the same way I won't bore you with my problems. Unless it’s a good story, I can make it quick, and…you’re interested!

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You’re good in math, but you have no interest in becoming an actuary. You’re okay in science, too--but you have even less interest in becoming a researcher or a professor. You want to make really good money when you graduate, and you thought Dagny Taggart in Atlas Shrugged was one cool chick.

Engineering it is! Or…was.

The reasons I just gave for choosing civil engineering as my major in college weren’t altogether irresponsible for a high school kid. Except there’s more to it.

I wanted to be special, and a woman in engineering was special at the time.

Pathetic, I know.

I sailed through my freshman year on what I’d learned in my advanced math classes in high school. Sophomore year was a different story. I knew within a week I was in deep, deep trouble. I was getting into more of the core engineering classes--and if I stuck with them I was in for…hell.

The problem was, I didn’t know what I’d rather be doing. The things I loved to do, the things I was really good at, were fun. And fun was something I thought you had in the evenings or on weekends or after you retired. Not at work.

Now what?

I took the advice of a favorite professor, who knew that many of us wanted to bail. “Make sure you’re running to something,” he suggested, “and not away from it.”

It made sense. When you don’t know where you’re going, as I’ve come to believe, you may as well hang out where you are.

Not only that, but it would’ve really bothered me to quit. You don’t quit something just because it’s difficult. I knew I’d prove something--if only to myself--if I got that degree.

I graduated with a 3.0 average, I passed the Engineer-in-Training exam, and I never went near a real engineering job after I graduated. Smart moves. Every one!

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Not that into baseball? Me, neither. My girlfriend once gave George Brett a haircut, but that’s about the extent of my stories--or interest--in the sport.

I’ve forgotten everything I learned in my statistics classes.

Heck, I hadn’t even seen Brad Pitt in a single movie.

So when Darrell showed me a trailer for Moneyball I reacted the way you would if you didn’t care about baseball, statistics, or Brad Pitt.

But I follow Steven Pressfield on Twitter, and that’s how I found out about this review of it.

Suddenly I couldn’t wait to see it, which we did.

And I hope you will, too. Especially if the world is a little too much with you, if you’re worried the best part of your life is behind you, or if you just crave the distraction of a really really good story.

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A dinner party. I was at the far end of the table, minding my own vegetables. There was a lull in the conversation. The hostess, at the other end of the table, let out a sigh in my direction. “Maureen,” she said. “We have some greens in the fridge.” As if to say, “If you’re going to be that way…”

Cue the nervous laughter. “So much for staying under the radar!” I joked. The hostess’s husband, a sweetheart, piped in. “Busted!” he said.

And that was about it.

Until I got home and remembered the great talk I’d had with the gal a year ago. This new way I’m eating, how well it’s working, how good it makes me feel. She seemed interested. She asked great questions. And she gave me the impression she’d be…chewing on it. Now that she had, it was obvious she didn’t approve.

Which makes me think I’m onto something!

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I’ve been following with amusement the seemingly endless debate about whether you should pursue a passion as opposed to a paycheck. Call me the opposite of jaded, but I’ve met too many people for whom passion and pay are not mutually exclusive to get worked up about--as David Letterman might say--what the kids are calling motivation these days.

Then I heard Little Bets author Peter Sims admit he doesn’t like the word passionate because it sounds fluffy. Which reminds me of how someone once described an overweight person: “She isn’t fat. She’s fluffy!” It almost made me want to be fluffy, too. But I digress.

When Peter suggested you follow your interests, I thought, “Well, why not? A passion is an interest. Who could fault you for doing what interests you?”

If disapproval is distracting--but you can flick it off with a word substitution, who could fault you for that?

Not me!

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“Most people talk themselves out of a job.” So says former OfficeMax CEO Michael Feuer, who encourages you to tell a potential employer how interested you are in the position. He doubts the hiring manager will be put out. Which candidate is more appealing? The one who’s eager to work for you? Or the one who’s so busy playing it cool you wonder if he’d be so hot?

Oh.

And by the way, notice I said “how interested you are”--versus “how passionate you are.”

How to keep passion from being held against you, in my next post.

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When you think of a suit, what comes to mind?

The guy sitting next to you on an airplane, the man ahead of you in line at Starbucks, the person holding court in a conference room somewhere.

When I think of a suit I think of a penguin. The chief penguin, that is, at Blue Penguin Development. Michael Katz gets clients the same way he teaches his clients to get clients, with sparkling eNewsletters.

“I was as afraid as anyone to strike out on my own,” he says. “And I’m still afraid! But I no longer worry about worrying. It’s just part of the deal.”

When you start a business, people often warn you not to rely too much on any one client. “I think that’s also good advice for people with a so-called regular job,” Michael says. “Having a job is like having only one client. That’s scary.”

Scary, but interesting: “Life is so much more interesting than it used to be. I’m doing so much more of what I’m naturally good at.”

Sounds like he’s working for a good boss!

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"Would you like to do the suction?"

That's what the woman cleaning my teeth wanted to know.

I looked at her. "I don't know," I said.

Her face was partially covered by the mask she was wearing to keep from breathing in my germs, but I could see enough of her expression to know she didn't get that answer very often! She seemed relieved when I quickly added, "What would be better for you?"

"It would free up a hand," she admitted.

"I'll do it," I told her.

You just don't know sometimes. So you ask.

Darrell would've said yes right away, by the way. "I'd want to control when it was used," he told me. Interesting! Because it didn't occur to me, even when holding the thing, that I'd have the control. Or that I should have the control.

I'm going to be chewing on this one for a while!

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Would you tell a bumblebee to pick one flower and settle down? Sure you would. If you’re crazy.

Barbara Sher calls herself a career counselor, but I think she’s more of a fairy godmother--judging from how many people she’s saved by coining the term scanners. Scanners find it impossible to build their lives around a single interest. They’re entrepreneurs, they’re artists, they’re radio talk show hosts. They’re people who want to fix cars by day, play the trumpet at night, and…chip in…as a golf pro on weekends.

Legions of them credit Barbara for reassuring them they’re not crazy.

Don’t forget you can order the combo platter at the Dream Job Café. I refuse to choose anything else, and Barbara wrote the book on that concept. Still not convinced? Look into a retreat she’s offering later this year--and tell her hello from everyone at The Career Clinic.

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