A very close friend insisted that I meet a woman she'd just met. She just had a feeling we'd get along. After many fits and starts--business trips, cancelled opportunites and challenges getting into the city at the same time--we finally managed to be in the same place at the same time. I'm all for serendipitous encounters, but I've made far less time for these encounters than I used to.
I recall the salad days of the Dot Com bomb, when we had plenty of time and nothing to lose from meeting people who may or may not be helpful to us. I met people on searches, some similar to my own, and could listen to them talk about their endeavors for the sake of listening. Years later, with a small business to help run, time was at a premium. I've learned a new skill lately of folding in these occasional encounters with official business meetings.
This friend of my friend's was traveling far out of her way to meet me. She'd moved to the Bay Area not long ago and had some challenges navigating suitable places to park in the city. I could have gone to her, I thought, feeling a tad guilty.
Over coffee (or an iced latte; it was a hot day) we talked about what we were up to. Clearly our mutual friend thought to put us together for a reason. I knew that my coffee date was working on her third book. I guessed that my friend hoped I would be a potential reviewer of it when it was ready, or could help her with a blog promotion strategy. As she spoke, I realized she hardly needed my help. She'd practiced medicine as an OB/Gyn for years, then decided to follow her passion for art. After creating a national following (she shows in galleries across the country), she thought to expand on her passion for writing. She is now working on her third book, which had received competing bids from multiple publishing houses. She didn't need my help with online promotion; her growing online community was thriving. She had a staff to help her maintain it. Three years ago she had a daughter, and her husband, a Harvard MBA, had stopped working to explore his own possibilities and now spent his days at their home near the ocean.
I thought to myself, she has everything she wants. What can I possibly do for her? Perhaps, it became increasingly apparent to me, it was SHE who would help me.
I've maintained that certain things have not been possible because I was or was not in a phase that could make them feasible. For instance, no kids--that's not the phase I'm in. No more writing; I ended that phase with the business. And yet this woman drinking coffee before me had overlaid phases, abandoning some, or fading some out just slightly while focusing on another. But she never made decisions to abandon any one phase unless she wanted to.
She'd also refused to think that her past could define what was possible in her future. Being a doctor didn't rule out being an artist or a successful author about things unrelated to medicine. Having multiple careers didn't rule out being a mom, or starting a Web community, or taking long breaks to figure out the next thing. She struck me as fearless.
As we talked I saw our commonalities too. We were both driven people, but, speaking for myself, being driven with no direction leaves one to wonder, what's next? My coffee date was turning 40 and had done everything she'd set out to do. So what does one do when there's nothing left to prove to oneself?
I'm reminded of another friend of mine from college, who now lives in a part of the country I rarely visit, working in an industry I know little about. She and her husband have done well; they have a nice home. And while they are crazy about their nieces and nephews, they have no desire currently to have children of their own. This makes them very different from their peers. This friend loves interior design and has created a gorgeous personal refuge for herself and her husband. "I like spending time at home," she told me. It makes sense, since she travels constantly. She's not yet 40; she has years of work life ahead of her, if she chooses. What comes next?
"You know," she said to me. "I don't have anything left to prove." She sounded relieved and confused at the same time.
Then there's my friend the matchmaker--the one who insisted that I have coffee with the doctor/artist/writer/entrepreneur. She decided, part-way into a corporate career, to create a niche not yet recognized in this world of coaching women who were trying to conceive. There is no degree, no common path to this career. She speaks and writes and builds in tiny increments, carving it as she goes. She helps people, whether they are trying to conceive or not. She's a healing presence but doesn't know exactly how to hone that healing talent in any one direction. I try to help her with my knowledge of new media marketing. I encourage her to develop a specific niche, much like I would tell someone to focus on a blog niche. But even I don't follow that advice. Niches change, and sometimes callings don't correspond to marktetable categories.
I don't think this phase is specific to us thirtysomethings. I know boomers with long illustrious careers who are asking themselves similar questions. But there are differences. Thirtysomethings and early Fortysomethings are still in what I call "dig mode"; we're still supposed to be digging our tunnel to some faraway outcome. Not stopping midway and wondering if we should start digging up toward the sunshine--yet. Some of us who abandon the mission early end up never claiming the fruits of their labor, right? Or no?
For me, entrepreneurship has provided a way of working--or digging, if you will--while still getting glimpses of the autonomy I seek. For others it's art, or cooking, or family, upholding some passion on their way.
I think we need to find these strategies now, and not just because it's nice to do but because there is no such thing as a straight shot anymore to the good life. When the road stops being straight and leading to some unseen horizon, but starts to curve back around on itself, when recessions and incorrect assumptions about how life works disorients us, we must determine not where we are going, but how do we enjoy where we are. How do we find meaning here?
Ooh, Jory, that doctor sounds a bit scary. Ob-gyn, art AND writing? we have two clever doctor writers down here and I'm reeling at what they've achieved.
Some people must be amazing delegators, is all I can think. And certainly enjoying where you are now is the way to go. It goes so fast, whatever it is.
Posted by: genevieve | September 12, 2009 at 05:08 PM
You are a phenomenal writer, and *do* write, regardless of the form. I recently found a folded up piece of paper with 10 year goals I had written out, 10 years ago. It freaked me out. Everything had happened--even though they didn't happen in the exact way or order I thought they might. Unfortunately, instead of being proud, I felt defeated. What now? Gotta make a new list.
I truly believe (human) life is long and complicated enough to accomplish pretty much anything you can imagine, however outlandish your imagination might seem.
Posted by: Stephanie O'Dea | September 15, 2009 at 07:22 AM
Great thoughts - I think most of us do have those ideas about what phase we are in and that limits us. When something presents itself that's "out of phase," like a pregnancy when we hadn't planned on it or a job opportunity that offers a new direction, that's one of the reasons why it throws us. (Well, the pregnancy would throw us on a lot of levels, including hormonally!) Those ideas about what phase we are in interfere with our ability to just take it as it comes and choose what matters most to us. If I'm clear on what matters most, I don't get thrown off track, but maintaining that clarity is up to me!
Posted by: Ann Hession | September 18, 2009 at 05:59 AM
Hi Jory! I love this post. It speaks to so many things we think and feel over the years and through the phases. I often find my mind starts thinking about such things when I'm ready for a major (and often non-linear) change of some sort. Then again, it may just be some interesting realignment stuff...or gas. ;-) Good luck whatever it turns out to be.
And btw...I'm in my 50s and still digging tunnels. (Just takes more effort for me to tell my mind not to get so caught up in "reality" defenses that I miss the cool openings.)
Peace out and in.
Posted by: Ronnie Ann | September 22, 2009 at 02:02 PM
Oh...btw. I didn't mean to overlook your very important message about making the most of the here and now. Amen sister. In my own non-linear smorgasbord life, I've found this not only makes life richer, but you wind up finding some really interesting tunnels to explore along the way - should you feel like exploring that is. There are also extended times when just enjoying the sunshine is as enriching and rewarding a path as any. And the secret as I see it is that the fruits are always there with us anyway...if we don't get distracted by stuff like discrete "phases".
Posted by: Ronnie Ann | September 22, 2009 at 02:17 PM
Thanks for shares
Posted by: computer repair Toronto | October 12, 2009 at 10:22 AM
As a Hispanic female, I can tell you that phases quickly can escape by
Then, a short time later one is wondering what have I done?
I am very interested in blogging for the world's Spanish-speaking population (fluent in Eng & Span)
So, I am reading and investigating how to, where to, what about to
Thanks for your blogs
Very helpful
Posted by: iSABELglobal | November 07, 2009 at 05:23 PM
Loved reading this! I am a thirtysomething and have done many things in my varied career life thus far. In the past few months, I am coming into more ease of enjoying the now and pursuing my passion...photography.
Posted by: jill | April 06, 2011 at 03:12 PM