Not long ago I heard from a recent Ph.D. in cultural anthropology, who had responded to this column last October with an account of her struggle to reconcile the demands of research and publishing with her "action-oriented" personality.
At the time, she said she liked her position with a program for under-represented minority students in science, math, engineering, and technology. She believed in its mission, and the program was connected to work she had done at other non-profit organizations. Still, the job wasn't quite right, and she knew that she didn't want the traditional academic career people expected of her.
In her most recent message, she spoke enthusiastically about a career change: "I recently resigned from my position as program manager and have started doing consulting work. It was absolutely the best choice for me, and I'm very fortunate to have established a long history of wonderful friends and colleagues who are keeping me spinning with work and projects.
"The most delightful thing is that I am choosing what projects I want to work on and with whom. It was also exciting to gain a perspective on how the world outside academia would view my credentials and experiences, and I am happy to say that I was met with great enthusiasm and respect."
It's always inspiring to see someone take a risk to follow her passions and then land on her feet. I have found her story personally inspiring, as I take another leap of faith into what at the moment seems like an abyss.
I have recently resigned from the immensely gratifying job I have held for the past 10 years at Harvard University's Office of Career Services. A decision like this obviously did not come easily, and I was encouraged to share with you my thinking as I attempt to practice what I preach -- that is, being willing to take risks in following your values, gifts, and passions.
Fortunately, I am not the sole or even primary wage earner in my family, and I'm not supporting children still at home (though we are not yet free of college debt). Nonetheless, I have found it very difficult -- not to say frightening -- to leave a secure job at a prestigious institution where I have built a community and a reputation. At the same time, I feel somewhat burned out and in need of more challenge and balance in my life (I am aware of the conflict between those goals!).
So I have decided to try my hand at a free-lance practice that includes counseling and coaching, teaching workshops, writing, and perhaps consulting. Potential clients will be academics considering alternative careers, mid-life career-changers, and baby boomers looking to reconfigure their later lives.
Several things make this kind of practice appealing to me: I hope to have more control over the content as well as the pace and amount of my work. And I hope to be challenged by developing expertise in a new area and by developing a business. I don't rule out future part-time work, and I am open to what the next months may bring in the way of unexpected opportunities.
In going public with this career move, I find that I have doubled my anxiety. What happens if I fail? I should say when I fail, since there are bound to be failures. Legions of doubts accompany me, such as: How can I ever market myself? How can I ever learn hard-headed and detail-oriented business skills? By the way, I recommend When Smart People Fail to people who like me struggle with fear of mistakes or failure.
There are several other ways of fighting anxiety: Create a group for regular support and concrete assistance; enlist friends as allies, advisers, or simply listening posts; make "to do" lists and plunge into activities; and create time and space for reflection (e.g., meditation, prayer). I plan to do use all of these as I try to get a business off the ground
If I have doubled my anxiety, I have also made public my commitment to acting from courage and trust instead of fear. As I wrote in my initial column, we must trust that, if we are following our purpose and passion, opportunities will present themselves and doors will open.
One last wrinkle: I do want a less-intense work life and more time for other aspects of my life that are increasingly important, such as family, friends, music (I'm a serious amateur flutist), my spiritual life, and many other things. To that end, I am accompanying my husband on a sabbatical next winter and spring, taking along writing projects and postponing the official launch of my practice until after my return in June 2000.
I may report periodically on the challenges, frustrations, and satisfactions of my new path, but my focus will again be on your issues and concerns. Please keep your e-mails coming.
