I’ve always envied people who were driven in their careers. Not just the people who knew they wanted to be a doctor or a pilot at the age of 10 and made it happen, but the people who seem completely focused “or “laser focused” as we said at my last company”.
I envied them because I’ve always had to work to stay focused, to keep on with the project plan after the excitement of the brainstorming and planning was over. I’ve learned how to do it; after all I did manage to co-write a book and build successful social media and content marketing programs in four different organizations so far. “My best best practice is to make sure I always have a detail-oriented, focused, Type A planner on my team.”
As I get farther along in my career, I understand things I didn’t understand before. I have a better idea of how I work and what I need to do to succeed. I also have a better idea of where I provide value and where I’m happiest. I need to be in amongst the action, and also part of the strategy process. That seems to be easier to accomplish in a smaller company.
I also know I’m not willing to make the sacrifices some people make to advance. I’ve seen first hand what it takes “and what it takes out of you” to be a senior executive at a large company. I used to think I wanted to rise to that level. Now I know I don’t, and probably won’t, regardless.
This has been a difficult and reflective year, filled with personal loss and grief, as well as professional. So many things are different in my life than they were a year ago. But going through all this has helped me get a better understanding of what I want and what’s important to me.
My father’s funeral was filled with people who loved and respected him. He touched a lot of people with his generosity of spirit. That message came through loud and clear, especially in contrast to the people I’ve encountered in my career who seem so willing to put their essential humanity on hold for greater success at work.
I hope you don’t do that. If you do, ask yourself why. If you have a good answer, and it really does sustain you to work like that, okay. But I’ll worry about you.
There’s the “apt” cliché that says no one ever wished on their deathbed that they’d spent more time at the office. True. But I wonder how many people on their deathbed, or worse, in the many years between retirement and death, wish they hadn’t been such an asshole.