Meet George.

He’s a fictitious client, but not that fictitious.

He’s a lawyer. At school he had the ambition of getting into a top university and doing a law degree. So, he got top A Level results, and is invited to do law at Oxbridge. He gets a first.

Along the way he meets Sophie who’s studying international business studies.

While still at university he sets his next goal: get hired by a top firm to do his professional exams. Being such a stellar candidate, the Magic Circle firms line up to offer him a place.

He accepts one of these and begins to see the next horizon of ambition opening up to him: get qualified so he can actually call himself a lawyer, become an associate of the firm, and then work his way up to be accepted into the hallowed sanctuary of the partnership.

While he’s grafting at the coal face, he asks Sophie to marry him. They have a big, expensive party. White dress. Beautiful photographs.

She’s working for an investment bank and they handcuff themselves to a mortgage for a bigger house that they can’t really currently afford, in a good part of town, knowing that their income can only grow.

The early years of married life are full. They’re both caught up in parallel achieving and, although they see little of one another Monday through Friday, it’s exciting and they share their sense of themselves as a successful, young career couple.

Then Sophie becomes pregnant. It was in the plan, and they’re both delighted. For a while she slow tracks her career to spend more time with the baby.

Meantime, George is working away. He has specialised in International Capital Markets and, if not pulling all nighters to meet the deadlines on deals, he’s travelling across Europe and The Middle East.

Baby number two comes along. And Sophie starts to have a different take on life. She enjoys motherhood and wants to be successful in work without having to follow investment banking career rule protocol. She wants to make work fit life for a change.

She hires a coach, quits the bank (they’re doing another cull so that she walks away with some cash), and sets up a niche business doing organic baby foods that she markets to her network of professional mothers.

Part of the life she now seeks is about spending more time with George and her children.

At which point, it starts to become apparent to her that George is not around much to spend more time with.

She tries talking to him about it.

“We can’t all run flaky businesses,” he says, “and one of us needs a secure income.”

Months and years pass. Nothing changes. George is missing his children’s first words, their first steps, their bath times, their funny little sayings, their first days at school, their first report cards.

Sophie tries talking again. She’s sad that he’s missing out and that his children are too. It would be great if he’d at least come to parent-teacher evenings with her.

But by now he’s been appointed as an equity partner and really does feel that he has something to prove.

“I need your support,” he says. “Not your criticism.”

Things continue as is. Or so it seems.

The first thing I know about any of this story is, in fact, a call from George’s HRD.

“He’s top talent,” she says. “But his performance appears to have hit a wall. His associates and peers are complaining about him, and his Managing Partner is concerned. We’ve all been very understanding, but there’s a finite period of time that our support for him can continue. I think he has some work life issues…”

Then, George himself is sitting in front of me.

“My wife, Sophie, left me,” he says and begins to unravel.

He has never questioned her or their marriage at all. They’ve been together forever, so he has assumed they always will be. Sure, he knew she was pissed at his hours, and his travel, and the dedication he puts into his job, but she’d known that this was his thing when they married. It had been hers too early on. It was unfair that she’d changed the game on him.

Now he’s embroiled in a different kind of legal battle. They’ve, of course, engaged their separate top divorce lawyers and are going through the painful minutiae of their lives. The children, money, property. Who gets what.

Yes, he’s aggrieved that she has up and left him.

But it’s only now that he confronts how important she and his children have been to him. He has hired a cleaner and the firm has a laundry service he can use. But it’s hardly the same as walking into an orderly home day after day. And he wonders whether he can offload his Waitrose online shopping to his PA or how else he’s going to ever return to the phenomenon of the abundantly full fridge.

And he’s seeing more of his children than ever now.

Because that’s the agreement the divorce lawyers struck in court. Which is as odd as it is sweet. Seeing them there, all by himself, in what has been the family home. Forming new relationships with them. Finding the words to say he loves them.

And with that he has lost the ability to oversleep at weekends to catch up on his energy. At least every other weekend, when he has them. Though, in any case, sleep is shot. There’s no such thing in his life as rest.

He has spent the first months since Sophie left in continued denial. Imagining she’d come back; that this was just some big protest to capture his attention. She has it, so why isn’t she returning?

Imagining too that he could wall off his broken heart when he went to work. But he can’t. His emotional upset spills over. Being exhausted, he can’t focus. His fuse is short and he snaps at the least little thing.

And the longer she’s away, the more reality is hitting him. Still, he struggles to understand just what’s happening to him.

He can’t believe that she says she no longer loves him.

He can’t believe the words that are being conveyed to him about his behaviour via his legal council.

Neglectful. Abandoning. Emotionally abusive.

He can’t believe that the courts are on her side.

“Of course my numbers are down,” he says. “How could they not be?”

His heart is no longer in the game and his head is scrambled.

“What’s the point?” he’s asking himself. “What has ever been the point?”

Good questions. Questions that I wish on his behalf he was not having to ask in retrospect.

And I suspect there’s going to be more pain yet for George before there will be answers. But even George himself, with the benefit of hindsight, can offer some reflections on how it could have been different.

Top of his list is that he didn’t listen.

“I just avoided what was going wrong. I imagined it was a phase and that it would go away.”

The moral of this tale? Don’t take your marriage or core relationship for granted. It should never be a finite thing. It needs to adapt and grow with one, other or both of you, and if it doesn’t you’re setting it up for failure. If you find communication difficult, confront that as early on as possible. Even seek out a relationship coach or counsellor to help you have the tough conversations that you might not otherwise have.

While you build your career and are learning the intricate skills that will allow you to advance and propel it, learn too what it takes to have a good relationship, and allow yourself to grow as a person and not just as a professional.

What about you? What other advice would you offer George? What lessons might you learn from him?

photo credit: HikingArtist.com

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Editor’s note: This is a guest post by Neil Usher (@theatreacle on Twitter.) Part property professional, part performance poet, part parent. You can find out more about Neil at the end of the post.

So where do you do your thinking?

This post had its roots in some tweets between @ThinkingFox and @JulesJ85 where the former suggested that I might be on the naughty step, and the latter that we both might be. I responded that this location was where I did my best thinking!

I’ve spent almost twenty years designing workplaces, focussing on creating spaces that are motivating, enlivening, and that foster both interaction and focus. I’ve visited numerous great examples of the “latest thinking” in design, and hung out with those on the fringes of the profession such as psychologists and anthropologists, all to try and increase my knowledge and capacity to improve the design and build with each iteration.

Much to my immediate dismay, I recently concluded two things:

Firstly, that given a choice between the latest fast and chic IT kit and connectivity or a superb flexible workplace, I would choose the former. Human beings are amazingly and inherently adaptable and we can devise workarounds for the latter but in this day and age its hard to work around slow and cumbersome IT kit and infrastructure.

Secondly, that we all have our own special places to think that are – in the vast majority of cases – not the workplace. Effectively the workplace is used for everything else – and therefore everything but. The artificial just cannot compete with the unique and natural pull of our own creative essence.

Why is it that we find our inspiration in the gym, the shower, the pouring rain, the 65 bus to Kingston, the café, the splintered bench third on the left through the park gate, or the naughty step?

In the case of the last of these, I imagined that creativity was inspired by reproach. However a stimulus of any form may not always be required, the space may just be the spot that sparks creativity or lucid reasoning. I am not sure that there is a reason why, it just is – and there is nothing wrong with that.

However there are implications for workplace designers. We have to acknowledge that however much effort we put into delivering spaces to think and create, the occupants will always find their own special space, most often outside of this environment, regardless of what we do. It’s not easy realising that your opportunity to make a difference is fundamentally limited by human nature.

And just for the record, the idea for this post came to me on the number 23 bus between Oxford Street and Paddington. My workplace just provided the facilities I needed to write it down.

Image: Michal Marcol / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Neil Usher a global workplace manager, with nearly 20 years’ experience in a variety of sectors and countries. He writes today’s post in a strictly personal capacity and as such, to find out more about Neil, please visit his Theatreacle Blog or head over to Twitter and say hello.

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Such a simple conversation.

I could have missed it in amongst all the others going on in my coffee shop one morning last week.

But I was sat pondering work/life issues for some new stuff I’m planning and was attuned to what went on.

A mother had come in with three children and was sitting chatting to another woman, with the youngest on her lap. The other two, on half term holiday, were playing around the baby’s pram, parked up a few feet from the shop door.

What struck me first off was just how well behaved they were in comparison to some of the café’s regular kids who can make the place look and feel more like a badly run crèche.

Just then a man who’d come in for a takeaway walked past and recognised the eldest child, a little boy. I make up the story that he was a school teacher. Or maybe the father of the child’s little friend.

“Hey, Thomas,” he said. “How you doing?”

“Fine,” Thomas said, clutching at the pram handle for confidence.

“You having a good holiday?”

“Yes,” the wee boy said.

“What you doing today?” said the man.

“Shopping.”

“You’re shopping, Thomas? What do you mean? For food, for…?”

“Shoes,” said Thomas. “I’m getting new shoes.”

“Lovely,” said the grown up. “What for? School, or play?”

Thomas mumbled the answer into his sweater, so I didn’t hear it, but the man did.

“Play?” he said “Oh, that’s great, Thomas. Well, enjoy your shopping.”

And with a smile and a wave to Thomas’s mother, he opened the shop door and off he went.

I sat there for a while and thought. The child couldn’t have been more than six years old and here he was already having work and life polarized for him in something so everyday as the shoes he was wearing.

I understand the need for children to be educated. I understand why, in the UK, for the most part at least, they wear uniforms.

But I’d never really thought before about how shoes could be so defining.

Yet we’ve all been there as children. Shoes for school; shoes for play. The styles required for one, not always okay for the other. Bits of ourselves getting locked away as we learn to conform, as we learn to compartmentalize ourselves into our various sub-components.

No wonder when I sit with coaching clients decades later, helping them unravel their work/life dilemmas that they struggle with the prospect that work and life are not indeed different things.

“It’s about your whole life,” I say. “Of which work is part. It’s about integration. Not separation.”

And sometimes they get there. But often, too, it takes time. That split between who and how you can be in one setting versus another is hard-wired from the beginning.

Which now has me thinking about all the other subtle ways in which we set up work/life splits. And what we can do to make it different.

What kind of things do you notice? How would you make things different to allow more work/life integration?

Photo credit: Richard Tenspeed Heaven

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No, it’s not what you think.

It’s the word “soul”.

But that’s the question Phil Bowermaster, of The Transparency Revolution was asking me about the other day when he interviewed me for BlogTalk Radio.

It’s pretty common in career parlance to talk about the self, or the whole self. But using the word soul, as I have done in my eBook, The 7 Most Soul Sucking Career Mistakes Ever (And How To Avoid Them), takes things to a different level.

And is that okay?

In Phil’s interview we touch on all kind of career related things. Like the major disconnects we can experience between our values and how we live and work, and how we can begin to close the gap.

Oh, and also, the role organisations play in cutting through what I call corporate mythology. And how their getting real is in everybody’s interests.

Anyway, without giving more away, here’s the link to the interview.

http://www.transparencyrevolution.com/2011/05/your-life-your-career-your-soul/

I’d love to get your reactions in the comments!

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Editor’s note: This is a guest post by Adam Rico from WorkYouEnjoy.com

Recently I had an exchange with someone that went like this.

“How was your fifty mile run?’

“It went really well.  After I finished the run I threw up for three hours.  It was great!”

It was great?  I thought about that statement for a couple of days afterwards.  Here was a seemingly lucid man I’ve known my entire life.  He’s never been crazy before.  Poor guy, I wonder what happened?

However, as I thought about it more, I realized how throwing up for three hours could be considered a great experience!

You see, it wasn’t the actual throwing up that was great (I don’t think), it was the satisfaction that he had achieved a self-determined goal, pushed himself beyond where he had been before, and experienced success on a very visceral level.

So how does this relate to your career?

Well, let me start with a question:

When was the last time you went all out for something in your career?  A time when you didn’t hold anything back and put everything you had into achieving a career goal?

For a small number, this may be a daily experience.  My guess is that you are living and working in your strengths, in which case you can probably stop reading this post and let us in on your secret.  Others may be scratching their heads thinking ‘how would I ever be able to go all out when I can’t stand my job?’ The thing is, in my experience, this just means you haven’t found the right goal.

The hardest part of the whole thing is figuring out what your goal is.

It is personal to you and only you can decide what you want in your career. Maybe this career goal has nothing to do with your current job or business. Maybe this career goal is for your next job or your next business. When you take a step back and shake off everyone else’s expectations, what do you dream about?  What is that thing in the back of your mind you’ve been thinking about but always feared that you couldn’t do?

Your fear is not unfounded, but it may be the first clue that you’re on the right track.  You will have obstacles if the goal is truly something that will stretch you and push you beyond what you thought you could ever achieve . You will experience pain, throwing up if you will. In addition, whenever we declare a career goal that is unique or different from the status quo, we will receive a cautionary response and likely even criticism. However, when you arrive at the finish line of your goal you will experience meaningful accomplishment like you have never felt before.

My running friend taught me a valuable lesson that day. He taught me that it doesn’t matter what other people think about your goal. The only thing that matters is that you feel so good about accomplishing your goal that you can throw up and still call it great!  That’s when you know you’ve chosen the right goal.

What is your next career goal?  I’d love to hear about it (unless of course it involves bodily fluids).

Adam Rico helps professional people who want to change or enhance their careers to do work they enjoy. More information about Adam can be found at WorkYouEnjoy.com or you can follow him on Twitter.

image: calamityphotography

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I hate starlings.

Or, at least, I used to.

Black slimy birds, who flock together and can be aggressive about their territory, stealing food that’s put out for the cuter birds.

Robins, black birds, finches.

Until this spring, when a starling couple started building a nest in a hole in my neighbours’ roof, left by a slate that had come undone in the winter’s storms.

A spot I often absent-mindedly look out over when I’m writing.

And I became fascinated by the whole process.

Over the course of weeks and months I’ve watched them. First, there were the endless flights as, with beaks full of twigs and leaves, they built their nest, hurrying, it seemed to be on time for the safe delivery of their eggs.

Then a solitary little figure, perched on the rooftop, standing guard. Dad, I imagined, waiting outside the starling baby delivery room.

Then grubs and worms being carried in. Food for growing baby birds.

I watched the little couple swoop through the little nest entrance, only to reappear seconds later to take off again to go forage for more.

Such industry. It was non-stop, it seemed, during the hours of light.

At first I found it hard to get my head round. Me, the former city girl, intrigued by the behaviour of a bird I’ve never liked. But as I sat in my little home office, I couldn’t help but watch them. They became totally engaging. And I fell in love.

The weather was so good over Easter that my other half and I spent a lot of time in the garden. That’s when I started to hear the little cries of the chicks as their parents dove in with food. They were growing, and hungry with it.

“Feed me, feed me,” they seemed to say.

Then early last week, delight as half a dozen fat full-grown birds hopped around in my garden, beaks open and still being fed by mum and dad.

For a few days none of them ventured far from the nest, hanging out in surrounding gardens, perching on the roof, swinging on the telephone wire, or indeed taking turns of ducking back to the nest.

Then one by one they all vanished. The work was done. A process ended.

But there was one little chap who wouldn’t move. He stood on the roof top, fluffed up and beak open, waiting to be fed. But with no sign of the parents who had, just days before, been ever present to his needs.

“You’re going to have to move, little one,” I told him, “or you won’t survive.”

But some starlings won’t listen to good coaching advice.

And, even if on occasion he ventured beyond the roof, back he came and sat just outside the nest. Waiting.

Meantime, in the last couple of weeks, something else has been going on. My neighbours have been having their house redecorated. Paul the painter has been turning up morning after morning, throwing dust covers over all their furniture and brightening the place up with a lick of paint.

On Tuesday I was talking to a friend on the phone, when I saw Paul on ladders outside the house, fixing the broken roof tile that was the gateway to the nest.

My heart was in my mouth.

Baby starling’s nest had been cut off to him.

At first he too vanished, frightened, I guess from Paul’s “interference”. I so hoped he’d been able to use the shock to help get to the next little stage of his development.

But then he came back. And as I write is still there, sitting and waiting.

Poor little soul.

All of which made me reflect on how it sometimes is with work and life.

There are times when it’s good to be busy and engaged, and do the work to see something through. The relationship to which we’re committed heart and soul. The job or business to which we’ve contracted our energy.

But there are other times when the nest that once held us has gone. The partner who once loved us leaves. The company that once nurtured and sustained us changes. Or, as likely, we ourselves outgrow things.

We need to move on.

Yet how often do we cling on, railing against how awful our ex is, or ranting at the unfairness of our company’s behaviour, or shifting market conditions?

When really, a natural process has taken place.

And it’s time to go.

The positive psychologists talk about the idea of slow death. Sticking with something long past its sell-by date even as it sucks the life from you.

Unless my baby starling flies off soon, he will die. If you don’t make an overdue move, something in you will too.

So, don’t be a bird brain – jump!

What do you need to move on from? What can you learn from the baby starling?

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So, Arnold Schwarzenegger is putting his acting career on hold while he sorts out his personal life, following revelations of an affair.

Good for him.

He’s rich and can probably afford to be so focused.

But what do you do if you’re at a critical point in your career, and all hell lets loose in your relationship?

Maybe you’ve had an affair; or your partner has. Maybe you’ve both come to some kind of crisis point.

Whatever, even if things get resolved, you can kiss goodbye to work life harmony for a while yet.

I’ve seen people in such scenarios get into really dark places. The emotional stresses can take their toll. And, if that’s not bad enough, they can knock otherwise solid careers off-track. Which leads to a whole different level of angst again.

What if your job or business crashes and burns at a time when nothing else is for sure?

Here are some simple but effective coping strategies:

Put yourself first

Whether your relationship works out or not, you are going through what may be an extended period of transition and adjustment. You have to make sure you’re physically as able to cope with it as you can. Eat as well as you can, get some exercise, try to get some decent sleep.

It’s tempting to turn to coffee, sugar, alcohol or drugs at these times. Try not to. They’re all addictive and will harm your ability to be able to deal powerfully with what’s going on.

Talk to someone you trust in your business

Find someone that you can trust in your company, and give them the headlines of what’s going on for you. Best if it’s a boss. But if you don’t have that kind of relationship with her, how about a mentor, or an HR colleague? Just so that there’s someone looking out for you. Someone who knows you’re doing your best to keep your work commitments ticking along, even if it’s not that easy.

Prioritise

You’re unlikely to have the same amount of energy as you would normally. So, you have to get smart about what things you will and won’t give attention to. If ever there was a time for 80/20 this is it. Figure the key things that will lead to the biggest returns for you and put your focus there.

Be economic with time

You may have to be super disciplined about looking after your time boundaries at work, at least for a while.

Relationship hiccups can demand that time be spent having good heart-to-heart conversations. Often with a counsellor or therapist.

If things are beyond the point of return, you may have to spend time with lawyers and in court sorting out the details that are going to enable your new normal to start cementing.

Whatever, you no longer have the luxury of allowing work filling entire days.

Manage intrusions

It can be immobilising if, midway through a day in which you’ve retrieved some stride, an inflammatory legal email hits your inbox. Or the soon to be ex calls you up bitching about something you’ve neglected to do in the children’s regard.

So, you may want to consider only looking at personal stuff at particular intervals during the day.

When relationship troubles strike, it can feel like you’ve lost control of your life and that you’ll never get it back. Make a determined effort to follow these five things and you’ll notice a big difference. They won’t sort your relationship, but they will help you make your work more manageable in the meantime.

What suggestions would you offer as being useful in this kind of situation? Anything that’s particularly useful that’s worked for you, or others that you’ve seen navigate this tough work life challenge?

photo credit: jurvetson

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It’s one of the things I love best in life.

Honest to God conversations about whatever. But particularly around things in which there’s a passionate shared interest.

Such a great way to build connections and real from-the-heart relationships.

And I love too how social media makes it possible for conversations to happen in real and virtual time, across all kind of geographical and cultural boundaries.

I love the way it enables communities to build themselves and share stuff. The magic that happens in the mix of different views and voices.

And I want to encourage more of it here.

Guest posts

Have something to say about the whole challenge that is worklife? Fancy sharing it with the other folks who read the blog? Pitch it in my direction.

There’s a whole community of smart professionals that want more from their relationship with work than either the in-house corporate trainers, or the personal life coaches will ever understand. Words like values, consciousness, purpose, meaning, balance, flow all apply. The unfolding journey of becoming more and more oneself at work. The everyday battles along the way to support yourself in being okay, when environments don’t always support it.

If you read this blog, the chances are that you’re part of that community.

What’s your experience? Bring it. Let’s help build a body of thinking on this subject that helps legitimise it.

Share a story, a piece of wisdom, some tips that have helped you. Whatever.

How to

My blogging ninjas have put together a rather cool page with guidelines to help you think about it in more detail. Head over there, and check them out.

If you’ve any questions or comments about this, leave them below, or email me and I’ll happily answer.

Looking forward to some great conversation!

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It’s a question I get asked a lot.

How do you extricate yourself from a corporate career?

One that you’ve known very well.

I’m not talking about how you get your head round what to do next. I’ll leave that subject for other posts. I’m talking about navigating your way through your exit.

There’s lots of stuff out there about giving two-fingers to the corporation, and how to do it. But what if you don’t want to use anger and rebellion to fuel your transition?

Here are three things I get my clients to focus on when they’re at the point of becoming conscious freelancers.

Tipping Point

A key myth in thinking about setting out on your own is that you need a ton of courage to do it and that you’ve got to psyche yourself up before jumping off. You hear folks giving the advice, “make a decision and just go for it”.

Well, yes and no.

Of course, there’s a decision-making process that needs to happen.

But, I think it’s less about using control to work yourself into a state that feels unnatural, and more about going with the natural order of things.

Consider the words of the Tao Te Ching:

Less and less do you need to force things,
until finally you arrive at non-action.

When nothing is done,
nothing is left undone.

If you’re working on purpose, your current work will serve you until it doesn’t. If you trust this process, there will come a point at which you know it’s time to act. A point at which it’s right to pull away and move on, in a way that allows you to do so without resentment or regret.

If you can adopt that mindset, you can rid yourself of any feelings you’re holding onto about being a failure because you haven’t yet been able to act.

You can also get curious about what it is in your current set up that you still have to learn in order to move beyond it.

Stakeholders

But when leaving becomes a reality, how do you take people with you? Especially if there’s any possibility you need your company’s good will for references, future employment, or possible consulting gigs?

Well, like any form of influencing, you need to consider just who needs you to have a conversation with them and what they need and want to hear from you.

Your boss will be on that list. But who else? Who has advocated you in the business and will want to feel that you’ve connected with them about your decision. An internal mentor? An HR person?

And what about folks outside the company? Who in your network do you need to talk to and get on board? Maybe even long before you push any final buttons.

Story

And what are the words you are going to use to tell folks of your decision? Indeed, to tell yourself about your decision?

You may have any amount of reasons running around your head for wanting to leave and move on. But you need to harness them, and you need to focus on the positives.

Instead of thinking about what’s been bad about your employed career, consider instead what’s been good about it. What it’s taught you about yourself. What it has given you in concrete terms. How it has enabled you to come to this transition point. Find gratitude in your soul for these things, because then you can thank them and move on.

What’s great now about this next phase? What is it offering you in terms of opportunity and learning? What positive challenges is it throwing out for you?

Spend whatever time getting really clear.

Your clarity then allows you to communicate your exit in a good, whole way, and for others to experience you being okay about your move, which in turn amplifies the good feelings about it.

Which of course sets you up feeling great about stepping into your soloprenuership!

These are simple ideas. But if you can see how they work, and work with them, not only with they smooth your exit when it’s time, it’ll free up your thinking about what’s possible thereafter. Because the unimaginable act of quitting, has suddenly become doable.

As always, let me know how this post strikes you. What insights does it give you? How might you use some of the thinking?

photo credit: aithom2

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1. How A Year In The Country Has Revolutionized My Work Life
2. Why Freelancers Hold The Key To Happiness At Work

Self employment is gaining status as a legitimate career path.

Now, there are a ton of bloggers out there who encourage you to quit your day job, like doing so was your ticket to a new religion. (Many of them, by the way, are still themselves in day jobs and hoping that, if you buy their quit-your-job services, they’ll be able to live the kind of lives they’re telling you to have.)

However, solopreneurship isn’t utopia.

The mortgage and petrol still have to be paid. You have to fund your holidays, maternities, and sickness absences. And there’s no big bad company to blame when the market shifts and your income drops.

Still, working for yourself brings a certain kind of freedom. And a way of working with a level of personal consciousness that I have yet to see matched by a corporate gig.

So it’s a serious option for New Work Pioneers, if you can take a grounded, big-picture perspective on it.

Today, I want to talk about the five big questions that come up in my work with folk on this path. Not to deter you. But to start laying things out in a real way.

So that they are normalised. So that you become more resourceful in confronting them positively.

I hadn’t set out to write a series on this, but if you’d be up for that, let me know. The muse can always use a little inspiration!

How to quit structured employment?

Whether your career is stagnating or on the point of accelerating, you’ve got a regular income and whatever additional stock, bonuses and benefits come with your package. And you have the lifestyle to match. It’s big shit to imagine cutting off that oxygen supply.

Add to the equation that you’re well regarded, and seen as being a vital part of the fabric of your company and profession. Folk around you assume you’re going to stick with it. You may be included in long-range staffing plans or succession charts.

How do you break free of all of that and not doubt your sanity?

How do you take the inkling of a self-employed career and breath enough air into it that it starts to take on a viable life of its own? Where do you get the faith to believe that you can make a go of things in a way that allows you to support the kind of income you need?

What are the conversations you must have with yourself, your family, your bosses and colleagues that allow you to withdraw and feel good about your decisions? Without feeling that you’ve failed in some way? And that doors remain open, if you need them to be?

How to do meaningful work?

Working for yourself means developing products or services that you promote and exchange in return for money. What are yours?

How close will they be to what you do now? How different will you allow yourself to be?

You hear a lot of talk about working on purpose. How much conviction must you have about yours before you voice it? How much clarity about it do you need before putting a foot in the water?

Can you believe that you’re worth having a purpose? And what’s the process towards becoming someone who lives “on purpose”?

How to get balance?

One of the biggest push factors from corporate work is the desire to have a better quality of life. To be able to listen to yourself, and feed your soul with things like special interests and family time that would otherwise go by the wayside.

Yet, becoming wholly responsible for your own work demands its own attention and takes energy and focus. How do you boundary time you give it versus time you take for you? How do you square that off with a world that expects you to be always plugged in?

How do you manage your fears that if you’re not always there, you won’t get work?

What old, ill-fitting feeling and beliefs come up for you as you assert your wish for a life? How will you choose to overcome them so that you don’t just reinvent your corporate experience?

How to support career development?

In good times, big companies spend fortunes on your training and development. They’ll often allow you to expense your professional qualifications or memberships. How will you keep your skills sharp when you’re self-funding?

Who will you lean on that gets what you’re trying to do? Where will you find the time and space and keep the work coming in?

How to enable a shift in business focus?

And what if you decide, as happens, that although you started out offering this, you now what to switch to that?

How do you walk the line of rethinking your game, figuring out how to, and keeping your cashflow coming?

How do you deal with times of deep soul-searching and personal reinvention, and stay commercially relevant?

How to know if it’s ever right to go back?

Popular mythology says that when you quit the corporation, there’s no going back.

But is that for real? And would there be instances where, in complete conscious awareness, it would be right to take a freelance mindset into what’s contracted as a payroll job?

How do you navigate that in a way that feels like moving forward, not back?

How would you know when to quit again and what for?

How does all of this strike you? Does any of it sound familiar? What do you resonate with? What would you add to the list?

photo credit: EliJerma

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