As much as I believe in the power of a calling, in the idea that for each of us there is work that makes us sing, sometimes the idea of a calling can paralyze us.
How do I know this is really my calling? Maybe it’s just a passing whim. Can it possibly be important enough or meaningful enough or whatever to be a calling? I have no idea what my calling is and so I must stay here in misery until I do.
We humans, we’re so good at using our big, powerful brains to confuse the hell out of ourselves.
Sometimes we have to jump.
You probably don’t know this, but my own process of leaving academia looked something like this.
- Spend two years in a tenure-track job confused and miserable.
- Realize I want out.
- Spend two years miserable and convinced I can’t do anything else.
- Have a series of Big Ideas that go nowhere after teensy-tiny setbacks. (Oh, copyediting, I think I’m glad you and I never got together.)
- Take a deep breath and send out a couple of applications.
- Six weeks later, start a new job in a new city.
Sometimes I talk about that last bullet to make the point that you never know what will happen when you start applying, no matter what the averages or the medians or other people’s experiences are. Serendipity happens. I got crazy lucky.
But today I want to talk about a different aspect of those six weeks.
Six weeks took four years
It’s easy to look at the six weeks between when I sent in my applications and when I started a new job and think, holy hell, that was really short!
And in terms of packing up a household of two adults, two dogs, and two cats, finding new lodgings, putting a house on the market, resigning one job (and career!) and starting another, yes. Yes it was. It was so short as to be just this side of insane. (I really don’t recommend it.)
But that six weeks was a product of years of thinking. And dithering. And doubting. And wandering. And wondering. And hoping.
I brought all of that with me when I took the plunge to send in applications, and I brought all of that with me when I actually accepted that job and walked into my chair’s office to resign.
But if I hadn’t, finally, jumped, those four years would simply have been misery. They were something else because I held my breath and did something terrifying.
It worked
I learned a lot in that first job out of academia. One of the things I learned was that I don’t actually like being a fundraiser, but it was a reasonable hypothesis to start with. I jumped out of academia, and I spent three years learning all kinds of things before needing to jump again.
Only this time it was easier. I already knew I could switch fields and not die. I already knew I brought a whole host of skills and talents to the workplace. I already knew I could make it outside of the ivory tower.
But I didn’t know any of that until I jumped. And I wouldn’t have learned any of it if I hadn’t jumped.
In which I quote Finding Nemo
There’s a scene near the end of the movie Finding Nemo wherein Dory the amnesiac and Martin the panicking parent are in the mouth of a whale. They’re hanging on to some part of its tongue, and it’s telling them to let go. Martin yells to Dory, “How do you know something bad isn’t going to happen?”
She says, simply, “I don’t.” He lets go, and the whale shoots them out of its blowhole into Sydney Harbor – exactly where they wanted to go.
Sometimes, we need to have faith that our lives will unfold in beautiful and interesting and compelling ways, and that we can’t actually control this. Sometimes we need to actually jump into the unfamiliar possibility in order to get the next layer of understanding that gets us closer to our calling.
Sometimes the best way to find our calling is to try things.
So go ahead. Jump.
Take a leap into the unknown and trust that whatever happens next, you will be enough to deal with it and learn from and it and be that much closer to knowing what you actually do want.
And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find out that this new thing you doubted, it really is what you should be doing.
(And I’m really sorry if I put the Pointer Sisters in your head….)
Not sure how to jump? I’m teaching a free class on August 1 that covers common misunderstandings about academics we have to deal with, strategies for translating your skills into non-academic settings, and a 6-part system for finding a job you love. You can learn more and sign up here.
JoVE says
Worse than the pointer sister: David Lee Roth. Thanks a lot.
And yes, I did some jumping in my trajectory, too. Like you after several years of mulling and wondering and exploring.
One thing I discovered in my path was that there were options within the university and that people were supportive of my professional development even if they didn’t quite understand why I didn’t want a traditional academic career.
My jump looked a lot scarier. I up and moved across an ocean with no job to go to and started looking. I did have some savings to live on but it looked pretty scary to lots of people.
JoVE´s last blog post ..Interesting post on impact of research
Julie says
David Lee Roth. I am so sorry.
You definitely jumped a lot farther than I did!