tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9829062427270540152024-03-13T22:56:17.318-07:00What is Your Calling in Life?"Finding a calling" has been a defining feature of my personal development, and the focus of my research as a management professor. Pursuing the question of calling is both an intellectual and spiritual journey. Here I share what I am learning about callings in life. I welcome your comments!Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-59155736865201509432013-07-15T10:32:00.000-07:002013-07-16T15:42:48.435-07:00Motherhood and Professional CallingsI have taken a break from blogging while working on my book. I'm happy to say that the book is fully drafted now! Stuart and I still have some polishing to do, but it should be available in the coming few months. Hooray! <br />
<br />
Now that I have a chance to get back to my blog, I want to tackle a critical issue that my students (particularly female students) often ask me about: How do you balance the idea of a professional calling with the choice to be a stay-at-home Mom? There are no easy answers here. And as a working male, I am perhaps not the most credible voice. <br />
<br />
I do have some strong feelings, though. And my good friend Michelle, a former MBA classmate of mine, articulates them more convincingly than I can. So I want to share her story and her words with you.<br />
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Before I introduce Michelle, however, I want to assert strongly that we can still exercise our calling in life if we choose not to be employed. The way that society equates having a calling with having a job does a terrible disservice to women who choose stay-at-home motherhood over professional careers. The media and other leading voices sometimes express thinly veiled disdain for women who choose to do their life’s work on the home front. They imply that women who stay at home are somehow suppressing their potential and succumbing to archaic societal expectations. If this view is right, and a calling is something you can only pursue by choosing a professional career, then stay-at-home moms surely have sold themselves short. But if instead we define a calling as using your unique gifts to serve an important cause, then motherhood and family life become the noblest and most urgent expressions of calling. <br />
<br />
This is where I want to introduce Michelle.<br />
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Like many young people, Michelle had a hard time deciding what to study in college, and agonized a lot about what she should be when she grew up. It was during this time of uncertainty and stress that Michelle sought a "priesthood blessing" from her father (for Latter-day Saints, such blessings are a way to receive inspired counsel). Although the blessing provided comfort to her then, it would take years for her to fully appreciate how it would guide her future. Among other things, the blessing promised her that God would be beside her, helping her to discern her mission as she went along through life. It also told her that there were many ways she could accomplish her mission in life. This diminished her fear of missing her “one right path.” In fact, her path soon began to unfold in ways that surprised her. <br />
<br />
Michelle served a mission for her church, even though that hadn’t been her original plan. She later decided to get an MBA, an idea that she said came out of the blue. While in school, she discovered dreams and passions that she hadn’t recognized before. One of them was a fascination with technology in management. She landed a job in telecommunications and business process, thousands of miles from home, and loved it. <br />
<br />
Eventually she met her husband in her new community, and later decided to quit her job to raise her children. Over time, she found ways to keep her resumé and her network current, even as a stay-at-home mom. She did some consulting work on the side and tried her hand at starting a business. She became a member of the undergraduate advisory board of the Marriott School of Management. She anticipated going back into the corporate world at some point. <br />
<br />
But that point has never come. About 10 years ago, Michelle developed serious health problems that severely limited her energy and mobility. For someone who had been a “doer” all her life, this was a monumental challenge. Not only did her illness threaten Michelle’s ability to return someday to the work she loved, it also made motherhood – her most important job – more difficult than ever. But Michelle remained inspired by her father’s blessing. The Lord had promised that He would guide her to find her mission in life, and that there were many ways she could fulfill it. She continued to have a driving desire to use her talents to engage with the world. <br />
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Michelle discovered that one of the few things she had enough energy and time for was blogging. Writing a blog also fit well with Michelle’s gifts for technology and communications. She envisioned a blog that would provide a community for LDS women, and that would introduce others to their lives and beliefs (see MormonWoman.org). Michelle didn’t anticipate how large the response to her blog would be, nor the new connections, interests, and directions it would foster for her. For instance, driven by the searches on her site, and inspired by Elder Russel M. Ballard’s 2010 LDS General Conference talk on addiction, she became deeply involved in helping various organizations and individuals get more information online about addiction and recovery. <br />
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Looking back, Michelle sees the hand of God in almost every step that led her to the blog. She realizes that without her health challenges, she never would have seen this opportunity. She reflects: <br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">“I couldn’t have planned it. I couldn’t have set a goal that said ‘I’m going to be this when I grow up.’ I’m along for the ride. It’s very different from having a dream and pursuing it with all your might. It’s trying to keep an eye open for doors, and having my limitations be part of what opened those doors.” </span><br />
Michelle doesn’t have a job, in the traditional sense, but she does relish a sense of calling, although she feels that God continues to refine her calling as she seeks to balance her professional gifts with her family responsibilities. She says: <br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">“First and foremost, I want to validate motherhood. But our culture is swinging the other direction. It’s almost minimizing motherhood as a career. The more we validate motherhood, the less conflict mothers feel. Women don’t have to do something else to prove their worth or fulfill expectations. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">“We should cherish motherhood because there is nothing more important. But God gives us gifts and talents to use them. It’s just a matter of discerning how to go about it. He expects me to always be asking if I’m doing this in the right balance. <br /><br />“We worship a God of abundance and compensatory blessings. He is not out to strip us of what matters to us, even though he asks for sacrifice. In reality, I figured out more of who I am because I’m a mom, and that gives me the ability to be more fulfilled in other parts of my life.” </span><br />
Michelle’s path toward her calling remains less than clear to her. Recently, she has felt strong promptings to pull back from some of her volunteer involvement. She is still making sense of those promptings – is God signaling to her that she is entering a season when her family needs her undivided attention? Does He have new unanticipated opportunities and challenges in store for her? Michelle has seen enough surprising twists in the way God has used her that she has come to trust the promptings that guide her calling. As she puts it, “I want to be potter’s clay.” <br />
<br />
As she looks back on the unplanned opportunities that have come her way, the word that comes to Michelle's mind is “astonishment.” She has been astonished in precisely the way Eliza R. Snow expressed when she taught: <br />
<br />
"Let your first business be to perform your duties at home. But, inasmuch as you are wise stewards, you will find time for social duties, because these are incumbent upon us as daughters and mothers in Zion. By seeking to perform every duty you will find that your capacity will increase, and you will be astonished at what you can accomplish.”<br />
<br />
If, as we have argued, callings are about finding that place where your unique gifts and talents can be used to benefit others, then motherhood is as eligible for the status of calling as any professional identity. Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-40041655482028257322012-09-17T15:31:00.001-07:002012-09-17T15:31:57.085-07:00How the Daily Grind Can Prepare You for Your CallingI'm back! A radically busy summer -- along with a fairly sudden move to a new house -- has thrown me off schedule a bit. But I'm back into working on my book, and wanted to share a fresh story: <br />
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My dear friend Sam is a great example of how patiently doing
all you can in the midst of a less-than-exciting career can open doors to
something far more fulfilling. After his family sold the business that he had
co-owned throughout his early adulthood, Sam struggled to find work that would
both provide for his family and give him a sense of professional achievement.
Eventually, Sam found some success by building a small business. He finished
concrete floors – usually in residential garages. Although there was adequate
demand for his skills, the work felt repetitive to Sam and didn’t provide him the
sense of challenge that he longed for. Moreover, the job required Sam to
continually pound the pavement for new customers. Going door to door was the
only way he could maintain his livelihood since his job provided no opportunity
for repeat customers. As Sam put it, “I was firing myself after each job I
finished.” </div>
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Sam kept at his business for six years, getting by – sometimes just
barely – but never feeling like he was doing what he loved or providing for his
family in the way that he wanted to. How would Sam ever find his calling while
he was stuck finishing floors? At one particularly low point, Sam asked his
stake president (a church leader) for a priesthood blessing (a form of inspired ecclesiastical guidance) to help him know how to provide better for his
family. The blessing gave him some very pointed assurances – including that he
need not worry, and that God would soon provide Sam a way not only to make
a comfortable living, but also to help others in the process. </div>
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One day soon after the blessing, Sam was hired to finish
the floors of a cabin belonging to a man named Rob, who is a successful
entrepreneur. As they drove up the canyon together, Sam inquired what business Rob
was currently working on. Rob described a new venture that involved providing
social media services to companies through Facebook and other internet-based
platforms. Sam was intrigued by the company’s product, and immediately started
thinking about business owners he knew who might be interested. Sam told Rob,
“I think I can sell that!” Rob appreciated Sam’s enthusiasm but explained that he
already had a sales team in place and didn’t have a spot for a new person. </div>
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Undeterred, Sam started talking to his various contacts
about the new business anyway. And here is where Sam’s unique gifts started
to surface in a significant way. You need to know that Sam is extremely gifted
at connecting with people and forming relationships. He describes himself as
the type of person who can’t stand by in an elevator without striking up a
conversation with another occupant. Sam’s friends affectionately refer to him
as “The Mayor,” because wherever he goes, he seems to run into someone in the
community that he knows. So it wasn’t much of a stretch for Sam to believe that
he could find people who would share his enthusiasm for the new business idea. </div>
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Within a few months, Sam had brought so many new clients
– including some very large ones – into Rob’s business that Rob really had no
choice but to hire him. By his second month of employment, Sam had more sales than anyone else in the company. When he talks about his work now, he has a
sparkle in his eye and an infectious enthusiasm. It’s obvious that he has taken
a huge step toward work that represents his calling in life. </div>
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When Sam looks back on his years as a floor finisher, he
has a sense that it was a necessary, if not always pleasant, experience to
prepare him for the work he is doing now. Finishing floors gave him a
commitment to meticulousness that has enhanced his professionalism. Selling his
services door-to-door heightened his confidence in approaching potential clients.
And, most strikingly, Sam admits that he never would have found his current job
if it hadn’t been for the opportunity to finish the floor of his boss’ cabin. </div>
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As he reflects back on the years of struggling as he
searched for his calling, Sam feels that his faith played a critical role in helping him get where he is today. He said, </div>
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“The Lord is involved in our lives in the smallest, simplest ways, and we
don’t even realize it. The question is whether we have that childlike faith to
see it. Instead of questioning whether it’s the hand of the Lord or not, we
just need to say, ‘yeah, that was the Lord.’” </div>
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It would have been easy for Sam to despair, or to think that God had
forgotten him, when he was struggling for years with his floor-finishing
business. But in
retrospect, Sam can now see his professional struggles, and less-than-fulfilling work, refined him through
those challenging times to prepare him to do work that allows him to use his
best gifts. </div>
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Sam's story should be an inspiration and comfort to those of us who feel like we are just grinding away at unfulfilling jobs. Having an unpleasant job is <i>not</i> the worst thing that could ever happen to us! Virtually any job provides us opportunities to learn something about ourselves (even if it's figuring out who we <i>aren't</i>). Sam's formula is pretty brilliant: Work as hard and well as you can at whatever job you are blessed with, but at the same time, be intensely vigilant and opportunistic about new and unusual prospects. You might just see the hand of Providence! </div>
Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-32567992033793499902012-06-26T09:59:00.002-07:002012-06-26T09:59:29.273-07:00If I Miss My Calling in Life, Do I Get a Second Chance?I thought I'd share an excerpt from the book I'm currently drafting (which is a faith-based treatment of professional callings). This is my offering to those of you who find yourself thinking "If I don't find the one right career path, I'll mess up my life forever." (I used to think this way as a college student.) <br /><br />
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
All of us have probably experienced that horrible moment when we realize we have been driving our car in the wrong direction for a long time – maybe hours. Being on the wrong road invariably makes us think about missed opportunities. If we hadn’t missed the freeway exit two hours ago, we might have had four more hours of family time at the reunion! We might have been able to get to sleep at a decent hour rather than driving late into the night. <br /><br /> Freeways, though, have the wonderful quality of being vastly interconnected and retraceable. If we lose our way on a road trip, there is always a way back, even if we incur a major delay. But life’s highways don’t always seem like that. Like Robert Frost notes in his great poem “The Road Not Taken,” when we choose one path over another, we recognize that we may never be able to go back to the unchosen path. <br /><br />“…Yet knowing how way leads on to way <br />I doubted if I should ever come back.” <br /><br />I recognize that many life choices are irreversible. If I choose to go to law school instead of medical school, for instance, then most likely I have closed the door on ever being a doctor. So, for those of us who enjoy having options, making big choices can be excruciating – not just because choosing is hard, but because each choice also seems to represent a forever-lost possibility. <br /><br />When we buy into the world’s dogma that callings are a matter of personal choice, it puts tremendous pressure on us, the choosers. We may feel like life is a high-stakes guessing game, where we try to match our career choices to the will of God. We tell ourselves that if we are really in tune with the spirit, we’ll get it right and be on our way to a personal promised land. And then when things start to go badly for us, we quickly conclude that we must have gotten it wrong after all – which means that maybe we weren’t really in tune to begin with! And since life paths aren’t usually retraceable, it also might mean that we can’t ever get back to where God wanted us to be. We have blown our one chance at following God’s plan for us, and will forever be off in left field! <br /><br />I hope this sounds a little melodramatic, and perhaps even somewhat humorous, to you. But have you ever fallen into that line of thinking? If so, stop and think for a moment about how God works with His children. Jesus Christ's teachings, and His sacrifice on our behalf, show that God is a God of second chances. He provided a Savior precisely because we get off the path. Is it reasonable to think that a Heavenly Father who sacrificed His own Son to allow us to make spiritual mistakes would then relegate us to a life of unhappiness merely for making a professional mistake? Of course not! <br /><br />Happily, today’s occupational world is an extremely complex and diverse one. It is simply not a realistic concern when young people panic that an early career choice might lock them into a trajectory that they don’t enjoy and can’t escape. That is not how careers work today. Although we don’t have reliable data on the number of career changes the typical person goes through (common claims that the typical person has seven different careers during his or her lifetime are almost certainly a gross overstatement), the Bureau of Labor Statistics puts the average job tenure of all employees at 4.1 years. Given the frequency of job change in the contemporary working world, there are ample opportunities to gradually reshape your professional identity. In the working world of today, Robert Frost was right that “way leads on to way,” so that there are almost always opportunities to shift course, even if it requires sacrifices or augmented education. Your journey may not be linear. But guess what -- nobody's is. <br />
<br />
Rather than allowing indecision to paralyze you because you don't want to choose the wrong career, I recommend boldness! We shouldn't fear making a wrong choice; the more fearful alternative is not doing anything at all. There are likely many different paths that can gradually lead you to your sense of calling! Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-1005337784664685742012-06-15T10:31:00.004-07:002012-06-15T10:38:00.221-07:00How Ordinary People Find a Calling in LifeI spoke at a banquet for graduating students the other night. As I looked around the room, my thought was, "They really don't know what they're in for! Most of these students have some major goal they are striving for, and most of them will probably get there. But almost none of them will get there the <i>way</i> they expect to!" <br />
<br />
That's the nature of professional callings. They are almost never <i>linear</i>. And as with some of my recent blogs (e.g., Dr. Hull and Michael Gates Gill) it sometimes takes traumatic setbacks to help us find our way. I have become convinced that we don't choose our callings so much. They tend to choose us! <br />
<br />
But there is a danger of being melodramatic and suggesting that you either need a life-altering crisis or the heralding of angelic choirs for your calling to be revealed. That's just not how it usually works. <br />
<br />
So, here's a story -- one that I love! -- that is a <i>typical </i>tale of a calling found. Unlike Michael Gates Gill's story about Starbucks, this one will never be made into a major feature film. But it's an inspiring, instructive story nonetheless. Many thanks to my former student, Matt, for sharing it with me.<br />
<br />
This is how callings usually happen: <br />
<br />
In 2003, Matt was a psychology student in need of a summer job. His fiancée, who had planted flowers for the city, finagled him an interview for a lawn-mowing job. He landed it.<br />
<br />
When he arrived at work, however, Matt’s new boss gave him the option of becoming the crew leader of the weed whacking and lawn edging crew -- much harder work, but an opportunity to supervise other people and make a little more money. Matt accepted. It was hot, strenuous work, and Matt felt that the work was beneath me. He was a college student, after all! But, he decided that if he was going to do the job, he should devote himself to doing it the best he could. To this day, he doesn’t think the parks have ever looked as nice as they did that summer! <br />
<br />
As summer drew to a close, Matt wondered what job he could find next. One day, his boss called him into the office and told Matt about an opening in the Power Department as a meter reader. Matt applied and was hired. His work required him to walk 6-8 miles per day. Again, he felt overqualified , but decided to be the best meter reader he could.<br />
<br />
Later that year, Matt graduated with his psychology degree. But job prospects were dim. “What in the world am I going to do with a degree in psychology?,” he began to wonder. He realized that he had no clear idea what he wanted for his career.<br />
<br />
A few weeks later, a full-time engineering position opened in the city's Power Department. Matt had never imagined working full-time for the city. He had always had “bigger” plans for himself, which he now realized were actually no plans at all. But with few other options, he interviewed for the position, got the job, and started a couple weeks later.<br />
<br />
To his surprise, Matt discovered that he enjoyed his new job. He learned new skills and technologies, and soon earned the title “AutoCAD guru” of the city. Another year brought another job opening within the Power Department. Given Matt’s limited work experience, it seemed like a long shot. But his college degree paid off, and helped land him the job.<br />
<br />
Matt has been in the position for the past five years now, and just finished a Masters of Public Administration degree to prepare himself for future promotions. Now, looking back on how his career has unfolded, Matt has had an unexpected realization: “Maybe I’m supposed to be exactly where I am. Everything seems to have fallen into place for me to be where I am today.”<br />
<br />
As a high school student, Matt never would have said that he wanted to be an executive of a Municipal Power Department when he grew up. But here he is. He’s really happy with his work. He didn’t set out to choose this as his calling in life. But it seems to have chosen him.<br />
<br />
So, how do we account for Matt's discovery of his calling? A few major takeaways occur to me: <br />
<br />
- He was open to opportunities as they arose and accepted challenges<br />
- He poured his heart into his work, even when it seemed beneath him<br />
- He sought education and learning as he went along<br />
- He paid attention to what he enjoyed and what he was good at, and let it guide him<br />
<br />
And there you have it. Maybe not the most glamorous story. But Matt provides a very good strategy for letting your calling find you!<br />
<br />
By the way, this story is absolutely consistent with what many zookeepers told us in our research. Almost every one we interviewed expressed the feeling that the right doors had opened for them, and that they had been mysteriously guided along life's path. None of them attributed the fortuitous unfolding of events to the hand of God. But I certainly do. I believe that a loving Heavenly Father will help any of his children who diligently seek to serve -- whether they are believers or not -- to find ever-increasing opportunities to use their gifts to bless others.Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-21452756981704875192012-05-31T10:24:00.000-07:002012-05-31T10:24:19.874-07:00Lose Your Job, Find Your Calling?<style>
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Anyone who is searching for a calling in life would learn a
lot by talking to Michael Gates Gill, author of the bestseller “How Starbucks
Saved My Life.” I had the immense pleasure of spending more than an hour with
Michael in New York City recently. At 72, he is almost childlike in his
enthusiasm for the work he does – which might surprise a lot of people, since
he left the lofty heights of corporate America to work as a barista at
Starbucks. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDpTHKXEDLzcedydo7QVysCnbCWxTdUG6Vv7pUYRpCwLj5x0SFG0F3BRQTIMBcBoZTfjAL1qEnYbDjxaA6I_Hc9rF_tObqdh2lDPcqEa8FMXm1prKeeNacuzG6M03pldL3pDHd50Dk6y0/s1600/Michael.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDpTHKXEDLzcedydo7QVysCnbCWxTdUG6Vv7pUYRpCwLj5x0SFG0F3BRQTIMBcBoZTfjAL1qEnYbDjxaA6I_Hc9rF_tObqdh2lDPcqEa8FMXm1prKeeNacuzG6M03pldL3pDHd50Dk6y0/s1600/Michael.jpg" /></a></div>
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When he was in his 50s, Michael was a well-paid advertising
executive, living the high life in Manhattan, and raising a beautiful family. But
that life was shattered when Michael got a pink slip from his agency. Shortly
thereafter, his marriage fell apart and he was diagnosed with a brain tumor. He
spent a decade trying to regain his professional footing, but discovered that
he couldn’t compete with the newly minted MBAs flooding the job market. Ad
agencies wanted young faces and fresh ideas. Michael couldn’t get back into the
game. Eventually, he fell into despair and desperation. How would he support
himself? How would he get health insurance to cover his medical needs?</div>
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Sitting pensively in a Starbucks in upper Manhattan one day,
Michael was mistaken for a job applicant. He thought to himself, “why not?” He applied
and was hired as a barista. Thus began a journey of professional awakening that
might astonish you. </div>
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Humbled by his circumstances, Michael threw himself into his
Starbucks job. He took pride in keeping the restroom immaculately clean. He got
to know the customers personally and befriended them. He swallowed his fear of
the cash register and learned the skill of cashiering. He discovered, to his
surprise, than he was happier than he had ever been in his corporate career.</div>
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Michael was also awestruck by the qualities and dedication
of his coworkers – people he would previously have ignored if he passed them on
the street. And he discovered that the business of serving coffee was a
business of love – providing something that warms people and helps sustain
life. He found a dimension of meaning and importance in his work at Starbucks
that he had never experienced on the fast-track of corporate self-absorption. </div>
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What I loved most about my visit with Michael were his
reflections that don’t appear in the book. In recent years, Michael has
developed a deepened sense of spirituality about his professional journey.
During the time of his career crisis, he didn’t think much about God.
Reflecting back now, however, he attributes the twists and turns of his journey
to the hand of God. Even though he weathered a devastating professional crisis,
he is now full of gratitude, because those setbacks taught him how to relish
life and find lasting satisfaction. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is much we can learn from Michael’s journey. What will
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">your </i>career setbacks mean to you?
Could it be that getting laid off is actually a blessing – a merciful
re-tracking of your life to a destination better suited to your happiness? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ultimately, Michael doesn’t think that serving coffee is his
calling in life. He does still works at Starbuck and loves his job. But what
has given him the most joy is telling his story through writing and public
speaking. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">That</i> is Michael’s calling.
And he never would have arrived here without that pink slip that felt like a
career-destroyer at the time. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
P.S. I heartily recommend “How Starbucks Saved My Life.” Tom
Hanks has bought the option to make a movie of the book, so watch for it in
theaters as well! You can find the book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/How-Starbucks-Saved-Life-Privilege/dp/1592402860">here</a>. </div>Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-6583773053218239482012-05-03T22:27:00.000-07:002012-05-04T13:10:59.908-07:00Finding Your Calling in the Midst of Adversity<br />
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My good friend, Dr. Dale Hull, experienced a major life
change – not to mention a career change – in 1999. He was a highly successful
OB/GYN physician at the time, but a freak trampoline accident suddenly rendered
him quadriplegic. Because of his medical training, he knew at the moment he landed
that his life would never be the same again. Not only would he be a different
type of husband and father, he would also never be able to deliver another
baby. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQtaYnv63a-zsBc0ktRbqmzLK5YBOE0yiY5EPXkFRfm0SCv0zVzPMAEtPwr5Q4ASNc75vO3r2isSIfzV39TpAvQH5aS42mZvFzEtLfDjSqTa-rqAhq6Jz1g5Xe2v8n5HHPuUSbi3Eujg/s1600/Dale+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQtaYnv63a-zsBc0ktRbqmzLK5YBOE0yiY5EPXkFRfm0SCv0zVzPMAEtPwr5Q4ASNc75vO3r2isSIfzV39TpAvQH5aS42mZvFzEtLfDjSqTa-rqAhq6Jz1g5Xe2v8n5HHPuUSbi3Eujg/s320/Dale+1" width="320" /></a></div>
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Dale’s recovery was an arduous, and ultimately miraculous
process. After two and a half years of intensive therapy, Dale regained much of
his sensory and motor function, and was even able to walk the Olympic Torch as
it made its way to the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City, where he handed
off to Karl Malone. You can hear Dale recount his incredible and moving
experience by clicking <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="http://mormonchannel.org/enduring-it-well/7">here</a></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrEifVC1WGAQDpqERxXfxavUkAnmir6GvzSuiL0ma9enaDKt8xC6POAfPcY5YQKrWNYZ3tOfi1sLpsL4ggNJfiBidLPzeLr2l9SrlpFARsCXIIVsjf2Xpv_8uJUF60ND1pUtRHfw0HBw/s1600/Dale+2" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrEifVC1WGAQDpqERxXfxavUkAnmir6GvzSuiL0ma9enaDKt8xC6POAfPcY5YQKrWNYZ3tOfi1sLpsL4ggNJfiBidLPzeLr2l9SrlpFARsCXIIVsjf2Xpv_8uJUF60ND1pUtRHfw0HBw/s320/Dale+2" width="250" /></a></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Despite his surprising return to mobility, Dale was unable
to return to his obstetrics practice – his dream job. The door seemed to have
slammed on his calling in life. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve occasionally wondered what I would do if I was suddenly
unable to be a professor. Could I find elsewhere the same sense of purpose and
meaning I have in my work? Or would I, perhaps, withdraw into a state of bitter
resentment? </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These were the challenges Dale faced. He had no clear
professional path to follow. But, he began to notice a need. When other spinal
cord injury victims came to him for advice, he recognized that resources for
these patients were extremely scarce, and few had the opportunity to receive
the type of treatment he himself had benefitted from. In short order, Dale began
to transition from being a physician to becoming a nonprofit founder and
executive director. His organization, Neuroworx (click <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><a href="http://neuroworx.org/">here</a> </b>to learn more), provides cutting-edge treatment and
rehabilitation for spinal cord injury patients. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dale could have shut himself away and resented the cruel
hand of fate. Instead, he found a way to marry his medical expertise with his
unique and unexpected life experience. He created a new calling in his life –
one that provides him a deep sense of passion and fulfillment. You should see
the light in Dale’s eyes as he talks about Neuroworx! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dale reminds me that a professional calling isn’t just about
what you love to do. It’s also about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">using
</i>your unique experiences – both the fortuitous and seemingly tragic ones –
to serve in a way that only <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you </i>can. </div>
<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><br />
One last comment: Dale shared
with me something last night that touched me deeply. Immediately after his
injury, he was completely dependent on hospital staffers to meet all of his
needs. A host of different nurses and attendants cared for him. However, he found
that whenever one of the attendants washed his face – the only part of his body
that had any feeling – he could immediately tell by their touch if they were
just doing a job or truly giving care. I hope my students and colleagues can
feel the touch of my service when I interact with them!</span>Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-40112708259607545812012-03-28T08:24:00.000-07:002012-03-28T08:24:16.235-07:00Create your own calling? Lessons from my conversation with the Bear Whisperer<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;">I sometimes wonder if the reason people struggle to find their professional calling is that the best job for them doesn’t exist yet. Maybe they have to invent it! Sometimes finding your calling requires radical innovation.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;">I found a great example of someone who invented his calling in life when I met Steve Searles in Mammoth Lakes, California a couple of weeks ago. Steve is best known as Animal Planet’s “Bear Whisperer.” But he would be the first to admit that he is an unlikely TV celebrity.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYPz_ZRlq4DJc-xFVhUwpRimH6-MpONQm4GDOiDe2QXeDCyplYx2Rpk5mu-ESsCxzcPt040WqHy0WPiXn2uXra42LI5R8efNf-ZP0Ftl9MzwN6usotfTQejuSCZQhkxWzU8UqeV4sF0Q/s1600/Image_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYPz_ZRlq4DJc-xFVhUwpRimH6-MpONQm4GDOiDe2QXeDCyplYx2Rpk5mu-ESsCxzcPt040WqHy0WPiXn2uXra42LI5R8efNf-ZP0Ftl9MzwN6usotfTQejuSCZQhkxWzU8UqeV4sF0Q/s320/Image_2.jpg" width="202" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;">I met up with Steve at a coffee shop in the middle of a blizzard on a Saturday morning, along with my good friend and our teenage sons; we were in town for a ski trip. Steve generously shared his time with us (not typical celebrity behavior) to tell his story. (You’ll want to see him in action too. Check out <a href="http://animal.discovery.com/videos/bear-whisperer-videos/">this site</a> for brief, astonishing segments of his TV show.)</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;">35 years ago, the city of Mammoth Lakes hired Steve, an avid tracker, to solve a bear problem. He was given a “hit list” of bears to kill. But Steve had been observing the local bears and noticed that they maintained an orderly hierarchy based on status behaviors. Steve asked the city if he could try “educating” the bears rather than killing them. His employer agreed it was worth a try. Thus began Steve’s grand experiment: to try to become<i> </i>the biggest, baddest bear in town so that the real bears would know their place.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;">Steve began to adopt the bears’ status-asserting postures and mimicked their vocal signals. He experimented with pellet guns and pyrotechnics to show the bears that when they were in town, they were on <i>his</i> turf and better behave. But when Steve is in the woods with the bears, he gives them respect through his silence and submissiveness. The result? The bears know where their place is, and they have all come to know Steve personally and respect him (they even allow him to visit their dens). And amazingly, the bears help perpetuate order by keeping out intruder bears who don’t follow Steve’s rules. Mammoth Lakes is now the best place in the world for the coexistence of bears and humans. And in 35 years, how many bears has Steve had to kill because of aggressive behavior? You guessed it. Zero.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;">When Steve first started sharing his techniques with others, he was mocked by the scholarly community, which didn’t believed bears would respond to emotions like respect and love. Today, he is sought out to train other communities’ wildlife managers in his techniques, which have saved the lives of countless bears. In other words, by following his passions and his instincts, he has literally created a new type of profession. How’s that for a calling in life!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;">Steve would be the last person to take credit for his accomplishments, however. Like most of the zookeepers we studied, he attributes his professional success to luck. During our conversation, he said: <span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><i>“You’ll never find someone as lucky as me in your interviews. They gave me a task [to manage the bear population], and I just looked for the easiest solution. Life just came by and tapped me on my shoulder.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;">He went on to express his love for his work:<i> “It’s not just my job, it’s my hobby, it’s my pastime. I haven’t gone on vacation in ten years. I live in a postcard. I work with wild animals every day. I love every friggin’ day. I can’t get to work fast enough in the morning.”<o:p></o:p></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;">I feel honored to have spent a fascinating and inspiring hour with Steve Searles. He didn’t set out to be a celebrity. He simply found where he could best contribute, and humbly poured his heart into work that he loved. Despite his protestations of luck, I think the reason Steve discovered techniques that no one else has discovered before is that he really, really loves what he does. His love for bears borders on the spiritual. And his love for his community is almost patriotic. It was this love that propelled him to innovate.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;">So, you can’t find the perfect job? Maybe we should take a lesson from Steve, pour our hearts into creatively solving a problem we care about, and let the perfect job come to us. That’s the sort of luck I can believe in.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica;">You can learn more about Steve, his bears, and his work at <a href="http://www.thebearwhisperer.com/" target="_blank">www.thebearwhisperer.com</a></div><div><br />
</div><div apple-content-edited="true" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><div style="-webkit-line-break: after-white-space; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; word-wrap: break-word;"><div></div></div></div>Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-77883921383757001032012-03-12T22:40:00.000-07:002012-03-12T22:40:49.588-07:00The Parable of the Lilac Bush<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>374</o:Words> <o:Characters>2133</o:Characters> <o:Company>Brigham Young University</o:Company> <o:Lines>17</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>4</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>2619</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">When we moved into our home, I planted a lilac bush in our backyard so that my wife would be able to enjoy its blossoms from the kitchen window. I was delighted by how quickly the bushes shot up. But year after year, the lilac bush produced no blossoms at all. After about five years, I gave up, assuming that the bush was a dud (or maybe it was the guy who planted it). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEissn03LS8E1SpsVaQbNj2zthtxB_hPalQ2D6JxU-h17C-QtDPLeXNQSVDTe4ZvKQIqe4JFOtWNX4TtLMxOd-RJPOCoWzriDTfddZyLMyEdqg7zNbI4Oeyw7QpqeqEAg_7F-OOlQDH6eXw/s1600/Lilac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEissn03LS8E1SpsVaQbNj2zthtxB_hPalQ2D6JxU-h17C-QtDPLeXNQSVDTe4ZvKQIqe4JFOtWNX4TtLMxOd-RJPOCoWzriDTfddZyLMyEdqg7zNbI4Oeyw7QpqeqEAg_7F-OOlQDH6eXw/s1600/Lilac.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Suddenly, a few years ago, the bush produced a huge profusion of blossoms. We were delighted by their beauty and the fragrance that filled our backyard. And the bush has blossomed faithfully ever since. It wasn’t until wintertime, though, that I realized what had happened. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When I looked at the bare lilac branches, I realized that they were all crooked. They had all s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d crazily to one side. That’s when it dawned on me (yes, I’m not a brilliant gardener) that I had planted the bush in the shade of another tree, and it had taken the bush years of arduous stretching to reach enough sunlight to blossom. I have a great respect for that diligent sun-seeking plant that succeeded despite my ineptitude. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Prof. Kim Cameron, who is an Associate Dean at the University of Michigan’s Ross School of Business, teaches frequently about what he calls the “heliotropic” nature of living organisms. Heliotropic means “oriented toward the sun.” Virtually all life forms – flora and fauna – display an innate striving toward light, or other sources of life. Just like my lilac bush, they stretch mightily to bask in life-giving influence. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It strikes me that we human beings are about the only organisms who occasionally choose darkness and depletion intentionally! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Clearly, there are strong spiritual lessons to be learned from heliotropism. I have personally found that I “blossom” and thrive when I strive toward the light of God. But I also find great parallels to the lesson of the lilac bush in my professional life. How often do I shun opportunities to strive for excellence? For service? The greatest thriving we experience in our careers – and the greatest (and sometimes very uncomfortable) stretching – only happens when we reach toward the light that emanates from inspiration, from passion, from engagement, from devotion, from serving a noble cause. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When work starts to feel like a confined, dark space, try reflecting on my lilac bush. Instead of retreating to the shadows of mundaneness, bureaucracy, or self-absorption, think about how you can s-t-r-e-t-c-h toward something luminous and life-giving at work. You’ll probably find it most quickly by thinking about how you can serve others. </div><!--EndFragment-->Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-13620452764641769962012-02-22T22:57:00.004-08:002012-02-22T22:59:56.205-08:00To find your calling, forget about passion! (huh?)So this post wins for the most counter-intuitive title. I named it in honor of a fascinating little Harvard Business School blog post entitled "To Find Happiness, Forget About Passion" by Oliver Segovia. You can read it <a href="http://blogs.hbr.org/cs/2012/01/to_find_happiness_forget_about.html">here</a>.<br />
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When I first saw that title, I thought "oh, this is wrong!" But Segovia actually gets it absolutely right. His point (and you should read it for yourself) is that the world indoctrinates us to just follow our dreams, but then we sometimes find out that our dreams don't make us any money, or even get us a job (think of the starving artist syndrome).<br />
<br />
Segovia argues that the key to happiness <i>isn't</i> prioritizing your own dreams, but rather finding a need that you can fill. Basically, he says we're getting it backwards when we put passion before service. That turns out to be a hollow passion. If, however, we put our passion INTO service... well, that's sustainable passion, and a recipe for professional happiness.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This argument is actually a page straight out of the Protestant Reformation. John Calvin taught that you find your calling in life by discovering your gifts and talents (he might have used the word "passion" if he was writing today), and then by identifying <i>where they are needed. </i>My favorite Calvin quote is this: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">“For as God bestows any ability or gift upon any of us, he binds us to such as have need of us and as we are able to help.”</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Sermons of M. John Calvin upon the Epistle of Saint Paul to the Galatians, 1574; p. 307). </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;">I lov</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">e the notion of our talents "binding" us to other people. Having a passion is actually a responsibility -- an obligation to give your best to the world. As we rush off to pursue our dreams, let's stop first and give some good hard thought to who needs them. You are much more likely to make a living if you do. </span><br />
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</span>Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-18374978127458599172012-02-07T23:10:00.000-08:002012-02-08T07:26:52.390-08:00How to Work BeautifullyI mentioned in my last post that I have been studying voice lately to stretch myself. My amazing voice teacher, Kathryn Little, said something in a lesson a couple of weeks ago that rang all kinds of bells for me (she's full of wisdom). It's a principle that I believe has everything to do with finding meaning in our work.<br />
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Kathryn has been trying to convince me that my voice has natural beauty. I've found that tough to swallow. But a couple of weeks ago, in the middle of some soft legato exercises, she stopped me and said the following (reproduced verbatim from my recording of the session):<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><i>"OK, here's something to think about, because I know that this whole idea of your voice being beautiful is foreign to you and kind of embarrasses you a little bit... Um, instead of thinking about your voice, think about what your voice is doing <b>to</b> someone. If you could hug someone with your voice, if you could envelop someone with warmth and love, instead of 'oh, it's about my voice.' To give. To give to somebody else. Does that make sense?"</i> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">It did. And when I started thinking about singing to express love for someone, the energy changed, the focus changed, and things flowed much more naturally. Maybe even a little bit - dare I say it? - beautifully.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">There is a powerful principle here! I've discovered it with my teaching as well. When I walk into the classroom thinking "how can I get my students to like me today?," I'm never at my best. Instead, I've found that the recipe for success is to walk into the classroom thinking "how can I love my students today? What can I give?" I'm so much more effective on those days. And I'm a lot happier too. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">It's ironic. Finding meaning at work means <i>forgetting about seeking it for yourself</i>. Meaning comes as a by-product of serving others. And of course, that principle is true in every aspect of life, not just work. </div>Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-24911103178100283742012-01-19T23:17:00.000-08:002012-01-19T23:45:15.805-08:00The Second Great Fear (Part 2)Tomorrow night, I will be singing a solo at the departmental talent show. This is a very big step for me. And it all came about because a book changed my life.<br />
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First off, I have always yearned to be a great singer. But my singing voice was rough, a little gravelly, unsteady, and too loud. I was so self-conscious of how I sounded that I shied away from opportunities to sing. I was sure that people would secretly laugh at me, like one of those American Idol wannabes who are deluded about their "talent." And so I kind of gave up on it.<br />
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Then I read a popular press book written by a brilliant psychologist, Prof. Carol Dweck. It's called "Mindset: The New Psychology of Success."<br />
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Buy it. Now.<br />
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Prof. Dweck's decades of research revealed a basic human difference that reliably predicts a vast array of life outcomes. Beginning with her study of childrens' learning processes, she found that kids fall pretty neatly into two categories:<br />
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<b>Fixed Mindset</b>: a belief that one's intelligence, talents, and abilities are stable and unchanging<br />
<b>Growth Mindset</b>: a belief that intelligence, talents, and abilities can change through effort<br />
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Pretty simple, right? But it turns out that this simple distinction makes a world of difference in how children - and adults - think, behave, and perform. As a small sample: In her studies, kids with a fixed mindset tended to choose simple puzzles rather than difficult ones, even if they were praised for their abilities. Meanwhile, kids with a growth mindset tackled more difficult puzzles with relish, even if they were told they might not be able to solve them.<br />
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Other insights:<br />
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- People with a growth mindset are more likely to seek new knowledge, while those with a fixed mindset stick to what they know<br />
- People with a growth mindset seek out feedback, while those with a fixed mindset avoid it<br />
- People with a growth mindset increase their effort after a failure, while those with a fixed mindset reduce effort<br />
- People with a growth mindset compare themselves to <i>more </i>talented people to assess their progress, while those with a fixed mindset compare themselves to <i>less </i>talented people<br />
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And here's the clincher: People with a fixed mindset actually <i>shun </i>practicing their skills. Why? Because if you have talent you shouldn't need to practice! With a fixed mindset, hard work is perceived as evidence that your talent is in question. Prof. Dweck provides numerous examples of outrageously talented athletes, artists, etc., who plateaued in their progress because they stopped working hard -- not because of hubris, but because of fear that if others saw them practice, they might be "found out" for not being as talented as expected. And then, of course, are all of the "Rudy"-like stories of people who, armed with a growth mindset, worked their tails off to achieve outrageous success even though they lacked natural talent.<br />
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The best part of the book is that mindset turns out to be a choice. Dweck shows how you can alter your approach to the learning process by practicing a growth mindset. Having taken her challenge seriously, I can report that the effort has made a difference in my teaching, my parenting, and my overall zest for life.<br />
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Oh, and my singing! After preaching this material to my students, I realized that the only thing standing between me and my love of song was a fixed mindset. I timidly made an appointment with a voice teacher. The first thing I said was: "I really don't have a very good voice. I hope this is worth your time." She waved her hand dismissively and said, "Nonsense! Anybody can learn to sing. Let's get to work."<br />
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Growth mindset! Right there at lesson one.<br />
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So, what does this have to do with calling? In my last post, I showed how fear of success can stand in the way of realizing your gifts. Fixed mindset is the source of the second great fear. It's not really the fear of failure. It's the fear of being judged by others. If you are going to pursue a calling, and <i>really </i>excel at it, you will have to shed your fear of feedback, and consider it your friend. You have to forget about being perfect to impress other people, and instead embrace the possibility of failure as an opportunity for learning and growth. You have to care more about learning than about performing.<br />
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Vocal performance is not my calling in life. But the funny thing is that as I've gradually overcome the fear of being judged for my singing, I've felt liberated in other ways as well. I'm a little more accepting of myself as a teacher and scholar, a little more willing to stumble for the sake of improvement. It truly is a new worldview that makes it much easier for me to see my work as a calling and to excel in it.<br />
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Growth mindset. Try it on for size!Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-86493426336508213622012-01-10T21:37:00.000-08:002012-01-10T21:37:19.846-08:00Two Fears that Keep Us from Our Professional Callings (Part 1)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>533</o:Words> <o:Characters>3041</o:Characters> <o:Company>Brigham Young University</o:Company> <o:Lines>25</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>6</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>3734</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">I had a fascinating conversation with one of my students the other day. We’ll call him Marcus (not his real name). His experience highlights one of two major fears that I believe prevent us from finding and pursuing our calling in life.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal">Marcus is an imposing figure. A former collegiate athlete, he is large, confident, and passionate. From past conversations, I knew that he had overcome a great deal to get into college, including a violence-filled adolescence. Today, though, he practically oozes natural leadership...</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">…which is why I had been a little puzzled that Marcus often seemed to hold back in class, and to adopt a somewhat passive role on his team. My questions were answered, though, when he came to speak to me in my office. As near as I can reconstruct, this is what he said: </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I have realized that, with my large stature and my loud voice, I can easily dominate other people. I don’t want to be the kind of person that dictates out of force. So I’ve really been trying to stay more in the background with my team.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I had two reactions to that comment: </div><div class="MsoNormal">1) This guy is remarkably sensitive. I really admire that.</div><div class="MsoNormal">2) What a waste of a natural gift!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I commended Marcus warmly for his maturity in recognizing the dangers of forcing his will on others, and we talked about how challenging it was for him to overcome the aggression of his younger years. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But then I said, “Your stature and your voice are great assets, Marcus. What a shame not to use them to serve other people.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Marcus seemed a little surprised by that comment. I then shared with him a wonderful quote. It’s often misattributed to Nelson Mandela, who used it in a speech. The original author is Marianne Williamson. You may have read it before, but it merits frequent pondering: </div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><br />
</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”</span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I have to admit that I didn’t really understand that quote for some time. But then I started reflecting on the many ways I have chosen to fade into the background, to worry about others’ perception of my talents, to pass up a chance to speak out about something when I knew I should have. There are dozens of ways that we can “play small.” And we sometimes feel that modesty requires us to suppress our talents. Jesus' words for that were "hiding our light under a bushel."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Marcus has figured out that his gift for influence is dangerous if he uses it self-servingly. Now he has to discover that it will be glorious when he uses it to serve others. I think that’s true of virtually any of the thousands of human talents we might be blessed with. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, which of your gifts are you suppressing so that others won’t feel awkward around you? Do you fear your own innate greatness? I don’t believe you will discover your professional calling until you allow yourself to “shine, as children do.” And, as Williamson pointed out, when we shine with a spirit of giving, we don’t overshadow other people. We “unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p>Stay tuned for my thoughts on the second fear!</o:p></div><!--EndFragment-->Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-50085806436039211012011-12-26T23:28:00.000-08:002011-12-27T07:53:35.908-08:00What it feels like to RECEIVE a great workA few months back (in one of my favorite posts), I talked about an artist friend who taught me something very valuable about finding your calling in life. You can revisit that post <a href="http://yourlifecalling.blogspot.com/2011/06/if-you-think-you-are-too-vanilla-to_20.html">here</a>. Yesterday, as a Christmas present, I surprised my wife with a painting that I commissioned from this artist, the incredibly talented Santiago Michalek (you can check out his blog <a href="http://www.santiagofineart.blogspot.com/">here</a>).<br />
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The piece that he did for us is already a family treasure. I had him paint my son, Spencer, in Ghana. I took Spencer there with me on a university trip a couple of years ago, and he completed his Eagle Scout project there by delivering donated soccer balls to schools and orphanages. That trip was extremely meaningful to me because of the unique memories I made with my son. I wanted to capture them, and knew that Santiago was the artist to do it. Here's a photo of the completed piece, which is about 24X30 inches, and far more stunning than this photo can capture.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bmwi20QZcs8/Tvlu3MgpWSI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Ndo9sH49IIQ/s1600/painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bmwi20QZcs8/Tvlu3MgpWSI/AAAAAAAAADQ/Ndo9sH49IIQ/s320/painting.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
The process of working with Santiago as he produced the painting was far more emotional than I could have imagined. As we discussed the painting, we explored what my son means to me, what the experience meant to us, and my motives for commissioning the work. Far beyond just painting a beautiful picture, Santiago delved deeply into my emotions, and also into my son's while Spencer was modeling for him. Santiago poured hours of work into ensuring that he captured not only Spencer's likeness, but also his character. The result is a representation that is true physically, but also emotionally. When my wife and I look at this piece, we see our son's spirit looking back at us.<br />
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I can't begin to understand how Santiago accomplishes this. But I know now that he brings far more than just his craft to his work. His tenacious commitment to creating a "true" image represented a huge sacrifice for him during a busy Christmas season. He taught me that having a professional calling goes far beyond talent and effort. There is a <i>spiritual</i> dimension to having a calling. As the recipient, it feels like a personal offering that includes a heavy dose of <i>heart</i>, along with the more obvious involvement of <i>hand</i> and <i>mind</i>. <br />
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I am deeply grateful to be the beneficiary of one who lives his calling! Though I'm no artist, I hope to bring the same devotion to the work I do.Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-89086860361888043222011-11-22T22:56:00.000-08:002011-11-22T22:56:12.247-08:00Do you have what it takes to find a professional calling?: Lessons from zookeepers and shepherds<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>426</o:Words> <o:Characters>2433</o:Characters> <o:Company>Brigham Young University</o:Company> <o:Lines>20</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>4</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>2987</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;">When Stuart and I were studying zookeepers’ sense of calling, one thing they told us really struck me. We had a standard interview question: “What would be grounds for divorce from the zoo?” Most zookeepers answered something like, “There is nothing that would cause me to leave this place.” That was a new kind of response for us organizational researchers! </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;">So we started following up by asking: “What if the zoo started neglecting or mistreating the animals? Would that cause you to leave?” The responses to that question stunned me. Here’s one typical answer: “<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-size: 9.0pt;">If there was any gross misconduct or animal mistreatment or anything like that, I wouldn’t… leave the zoo because of that. In fact it would make me try and work harder to solve the problem.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">For zookeepers, animals are not their <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">job</i>, but their <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">stewardship</i>. Even if the zoo was grossly negligent, they would stay in their jobs because it is up to them to protect their animals. I don’t think we can really understand what it means to have a calling until we understand stewardship. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicfWo5DZ4-vxNSbN7dRhtLrxgfzwcHIQAml3-r5gAexuoYNR_3-TTOWQemDfNLQwxTPn4uIfgJq_HlTZRDUnHcoYMgxy9_kR4198jdd0a8VN88JBJp7HXpA2bgIvCfUtLFGiME8ZRlYb8/s1600/shepherd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicfWo5DZ4-vxNSbN7dRhtLrxgfzwcHIQAml3-r5gAexuoYNR_3-TTOWQemDfNLQwxTPn4uIfgJq_HlTZRDUnHcoYMgxy9_kR4198jdd0a8VN88JBJp7HXpA2bgIvCfUtLFGiME8ZRlYb8/s200/shepherd.jpg" width="120" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">I’ve been thinking lately about the difference between shepherds and “hirelings,” as described in the Bible. Ancient shepherds were devoted to each of their individual sheep, even if there were hundreds in the flock. A good shepherd gave each sheep a name, and cared for it so lovingly that it would come immediately when called. The tenderness of that relationship is one of the reasons that Jesus was called the Good Shepherd to His followers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">But then you have the hireling, which Job describes as a sheepherder that “looketh for the reward of his work” (Job 7:2). In other words, hirelings are in it for the money. They wouldn’t bother to form an intimate relationship with the flock. Instead of beckoning sheep by name, they would rely on their dogs to nip at the heels of the sheep to keep them moving. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">And what happens when the chips are down? </span>Jesus described the hireling’s response to a wolf attack on the herd: “But he that is an hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth: and the wolf catcheth them, and scattereth the sheep. The hireling fleeth, because he is an hireling, and careth not for the sheep” (John 10:12-14).</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Maybe one of the reasons a lot of people feel stymied in their quest for a personal calling is that they aren’t prepared to make the sort of sacrifice and commitment that only a shepherd can understand. Do we see our work as a stewardship – as a "flock" to be lovingly tended? Are we willing to stand up and fight for our stewardship, even at personal peril? Are we willing to forego comfort, convenience, and convention to invest what it takes to be a shepherd? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 28.0pt 56.0pt 84.0pt 112.0pt 140.0pt 168.0pt 196.0pt 224.0pt 3.5in 280.0pt 308.0pt 336.0pt; text-autospace: none;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Callings don’t come cheap! And you don’t get to experience the transcendent fulfillment of the zookeeper or the shepherd until you are ready to give almost everything for your stewardship. <o:p></o:p></span></div><!--EndFragment-->Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-47227075964394878962011-10-26T22:07:00.000-07:002011-10-26T22:07:25.254-07:00Can Tarzan help you find your calling in life?The other day, I heard an interview on NPR with Jane Goodall, the world's foremost expert on chimpanzees. My ears perked up when the host asked Dr. Goodall to explain how she decided at such an early age to become a primatologist. I wondered: Would she describe some formative experience when she encountered chimpanzees in the jungle as a child? Had she been raised by anthropologist parents who infected her with a scholarly bug?<br />
<br />
Nope. Dr. Goodall's answer made me laugh aloud. She said, "It started when I was a tiny child. And then, you know, I found the books about Dr. Dolittle who could speak animal language. And then when I was 11, I read the book <u>Tarzan, Lord of the Apes</u>, and of course I fell passionately in love with this glorious being. And what does he do? He marries that other stupid, wimpy Jane!" <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(9/24/11 episode of "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" on NPR)</span><br />
<br />
What a refreshing answer to a heavy question! The first hints of a professional calling for the greatest chimpanzee scholar in the world weren't revelatory experiences or lofty aspirations. She just really liked Tarzan!<br />
<br />
Bingo.<br />
<br />
I don't think we should look to grandiose epiphanies for hints about our calling in life. Instead, we should look to our sources of childlike wonder. What captivated you at age 11 probably foreshadows what will captivate you now. Surely Dr. Goodall eventually outgrew Dr. Dolittle, but she never outgrew how it made her feel.<br />
<br />
I would love to hear your stories about how childhood fancies have shaped who you are today. Please share! (Comment or email is fine.)Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-63393813763426189722011-10-04T22:16:00.000-07:002011-10-04T22:16:15.167-07:00The Path to a Calling is Not a Straight Line<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>461</o:Words> <o:Characters>2632</o:Characters> <o:Company>Brigham Young University</o:Company> <o:Lines>21</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>5</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>3232</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">The other day, a friend shared this image with me on Facebook: </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoRsPBTlSN4n8K-L8fneRLsogEwS1aak66k2ENeyoSeHtt-Um_RiALWcIjvU0OHN8kB2JPsqr0QW6ggLvVR3-irpujKHqyQ2P-51HzrG2h2R8qXPLYaDioAXcyPkJQ1_zwVjugPv9sWnI/s1600/Success.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoRsPBTlSN4n8K-L8fneRLsogEwS1aak66k2ENeyoSeHtt-Um_RiALWcIjvU0OHN8kB2JPsqr0QW6ggLvVR3-irpujKHqyQ2P-51HzrG2h2R8qXPLYaDioAXcyPkJQ1_zwVjugPv9sWnI/s1600/Success.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s brilliant! I haven’t been able to discover the source. I wish I knew who to attribute it to. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The diagram reminds me of a conversation I had the other day with one of my Executive Masters students.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is well into her career, and recently made a big change in her career path. But she’s feeling lost and confused in her new job. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">She truly loves the organization she works for, and her job gives her plenty of developmental challenge. But her supervisor is a poor leader, and she finds herself trying to hold together a fragmented and dysfunctional department full of apathetic colleagues and petty turf wars. She tries valiantly to influence the culture, but faces an uphill battle since her position doesn’t give her the authority to call the shots. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As she sat in my office talking about the workplace, her face assumed a mystified expression. She said something like, “I just don’t know how I got here. And I have no idea where to go next.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Her bafflement rings a big bell for me. There were at least three times in my career when I thought I had gone COMPLETELY off the right professional track. I was convinced I had made a wrong turn in life, and could never get back on the path to my life calling, or to God’s plan for me. It was a wretched, hopeless feeling, which I’ve seen many times since in people who have come to me for counsel. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It also turned out to be completely unfounded. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Let me provide a diagram of my own. Here is how I would depict my career path over the past 20 years: </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0TktrgygIjjEzungZQbrAUVSBrJPCBz2t8v1Mguc4IfsLG-ouYBptq4J653bL9Q5fJQxcFv3PB2LNYxizL57y6tpPtfkBFi0INbIqwi7BHjfLNHTolT-NiyJpVJhYgEJAUYCu_NAhGY/s1600/path.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0TktrgygIjjEzungZQbrAUVSBrJPCBz2t8v1Mguc4IfsLG-ouYBptq4J653bL9Q5fJQxcFv3PB2LNYxizL57y6tpPtfkBFi0INbIqwi7BHjfLNHTolT-NiyJpVJhYgEJAUYCu_NAhGY/s320/path.jpg" width="310" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Looks pretty meandering, doesn’t it! No wonder I was never sure where I was going, or how I’d gotten where I was. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But you might also notice a pattern. The fluctuations have narrowed over the years. And today, I can superimpose some structure onto the pattern. It would look like this: </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjO7MyzYTt8ZUJmmxm-yOoHJo5jJsTuibU_lEd-nK20dQvoJNRdxfsqf1eD-nj5qEShZiT1bxvrN6pX8vA9bRdXuV-XeBkH6pbShSrOS9UPstfAXw9FRoc76TBNlXZWweBViorX1whoM/s1600/path2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjO7MyzYTt8ZUJmmxm-yOoHJo5jJsTuibU_lEd-nK20dQvoJNRdxfsqf1eD-nj5qEShZiT1bxvrN6pX8vA9bRdXuV-XeBkH6pbShSrOS9UPstfAXw9FRoc76TBNlXZWweBViorX1whoM/s320/path2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In hindsight, I can look at all of those twists and turns in my career that were so senseless at the time, and see how they were gradually guiding me to a better understanding of who I am and what I ought to be doing. Ten years ago, I could not discern the pattern, and life really did feel almost random. Those were the panicky years! But today, I don’t regret a single fluctuation – some were painful, but they were all essential to helping me gradually zero in on my contribution to the world. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Please note that I didn’t draw the diagram to indicate that I have now reached my precise calling. I’m not there yet! My career experiences still surprise me now and then, but they now help me come to an ever-clearer understanding of my true gifts. I may never really arrive at the magical endpoint. But that’s OK, because I know now to trust the journey, and I also have a pretty good sense of my target. It’s a wonderful feeling. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And, for me personally, it’s compelling evidence of the guiding hand of a loving Heavenly Father. I think He gives that sort of gradual, nudging help to all of His children that seek to find their gifts in order to serve others. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Whether you embrace a faith or not, I invite you to heed the advice I gave to my student: trust in the journey and allow the twists and turns to gradually guide you to deeper self-understanding and purpose. If you are trying to learn and serve, then you <i>aren't</i> lost! You are just riding the wave.</div><!--EndFragment-->Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-8990458310542207112011-09-12T22:58:00.000-07:002011-09-13T10:25:19.225-07:00How Do We Treat "The Help?"Some people are calling the blockbuster film "The Help" a chick-flick. Personally, I see it (and Kathryn Stockett's wonderful book that inspired it) as a compelling account of the battle for dignity in dirty work.<br />
<br />
If you aren't familiar with the story, it's a 1950s tale of black women in the Deep South who are domestic workers ("the help") for white middle-class women who treat them, at best, as mindless or invisible. Confronted with a sudden opportunity, the domestics decide to risk everything to tell their stories to a national audience. And those stories are unforgettable.<br />
<br />
Take Aibileen, an aging domestic worker who has lovingly raised many white children, only to see them grow up to be as condescending as their parents. Aibileen is a far better mother to the toddler she tends than the girl's real mother will ever be. And Aibileen's knowledge of cleaning and housekeeping is so extensive that she becomes the anonymous source for a local newspaper column.<br />
<br />
What breaks my heart is that Aibileen is actually fulfilling her calling in life -- doing her work with such mastery and originality that the world ought to take notice. Instead, she is dismissed, derided, and humiliated. That's why she is willing to assume great personal risk to share her story with the world. It reminds me of the incredible response my co-researcher and I received when we started surveying zookeepers, another under-appreciated group. They practically fell over themselves to tell us about their work.<br />
<br />
The movie made me think about how I treat "The Help" -- the people who do the mundane and unglamorous jobs that make my life more convenient and more pleasant. Do I sometimes look right through the custodian or the food service worker? Am I missing opportunities to be inspired by their excellence because I'm so caught up in my own professional importance? Do I sometimes forget my own words from my BYU speech?: "We do great violence to the souls of those who offer their callings in less-glamorous ways when we consider them invisible or treat them as minor cast members in the great drama of our professional lives."<br />
<br />
On a final note, since we're talking about domestic labor, I just have to share the lyrics of one of my favorite songs from the musical "Working." The words are adapted from an actual interview Studs Terkel conducted with a cleaning lady. Her fatigue, her yearning, her hope -- it all moves me (as does the powerful gospel tune it's set to). Brilliant!<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Mama worked just like her mama before her,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Domestic workin' was their trade.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">They was laundress, cook, and live-in help,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Thursday girl, babysitter, and a hotel maid;</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">They worked six days a week, all day long</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Never could get out of debt.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Those were the days when the minimum wage was... anything you could get!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">They was Cleaning Women without faces</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Coming and going on a first name basis.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">You're talkin' to somebody who knows... and after too many years... Lord!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">I dont' wanna be in one more laundry room;</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">I don't wanna pick up now another broom,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">One of these days, just wanna sleep til noon!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman';"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">All day long I'm thinkin', my kids is in the streets somewhere,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">But the lady of the house don't think you thinkin' half the time.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Always talkin' round you, like you ain't even there.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">It's gettin' so it does somethin' to my mind!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman';"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">I've got a daughter with a head on her shoulders,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Purdy as a picture too! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">She ain't gonna hide that purdy face behind</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Kitchen doors, scrubbin' floors like her Mama do,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">If my legs don't give out and my back hold up,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">I'm gonna make her a better day; </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">You'll never see her gettin' down on her knees,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Unless she's down there to pray! No more...</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Cleanin' Women, without faces</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Sh'gonna walk in-a on this last name basis! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">She'll be the first in this family </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">To have a face you can see! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">She ain't gon' be stuck inside no laundry room</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">When she sweepin' she be pushin' her own broom </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Day may never come when she can sleep til noon,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">But long as she can get up singin' her own tune</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Only that day </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Can't come too soon!</span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span>Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-22946413177717037392011-09-04T23:27:00.000-07:002011-09-04T23:30:36.984-07:00Another Tip for Finding Your Calling (and a Labor Day Greeting!)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">My friend Stuart just shared with me this amazing quote by Martin Luther King, Jr.: </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica;"><i>“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.”</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">I love that sentiment. It points out the connection between calling and art. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">Since it's Labor Day, now is a good time to share another principle I have learned about finding your calling in life: Callings almost always involve aesthetic creation -- building something of beauty, or doing something in a beautiful way. So, if you are struggling to identify your professional calling, here are some questions to ask yourself: </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">- When have I felt creative? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">- What have I done that has caused people to stop and look in wonder? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">- When have I stepped back and looked at what I was doing with deep satisfaction? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">- What was I doing the last time I wished that a lot of people could see my efforts?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">- When have I felt that what I was doing was beautiful? </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">If you can't easily think of times like this, <i>don't give up too quickly</i>! Go all the way back to childhood if you need to. Think about all different kinds of activities you have done -- not just at work. I guarantee that there is a spark of creation within you that has surfaced occasionally. Go on a quest to identify it!</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">If you are going to emulate Michelangelo, Beethoven, and Shakespeare in your work, you will need to find work that creates space for you to exercise this creative spark. Discovering what has triggered that spark in the past will give you some useful cues about how to bring art to your work. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">As Martin Luther King suggested, you can find artists in almost any line of work -- from street sweeper to entrepreneur, from factory worker to physician. In fact, let me give a Labor Day nod to one of my favorite artists, Mahonri Mackintosh Young, who dedicated much of his work to depicting the nobility of the manual laborer. Here's a massive sculpture he did for the 1939 New York World' Fair (the only image I could find that was open source): </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEM3XLifmOBAel5BKgERt746vNGM1Qx2wW-jJJbSEtL5E7xlaXexqvKJtH1lP5QtOcpT3Woh1URM7FA33IGg2DRt9IqAzJeUOXHzZhg9r5vQXtRFrU5erGZUJR9rFC5tmQc2lwT9K4X9A/s1600/Mahonri+Young.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEM3XLifmOBAel5BKgERt746vNGM1Qx2wW-jJJbSEtL5E7xlaXexqvKJtH1lP5QtOcpT3Woh1URM7FA33IGg2DRt9IqAzJeUOXHzZhg9r5vQXtRFrU5erGZUJR9rFC5tmQc2lwT9K4X9A/s1600/Mahonri+Young.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">You can see more of his wonderful sculpture and paintings <a href="http://www.springvilleartmuseum.org/collections/browse.html?x=artist&artist_id=9">here</a> (Springville Museum of Art site).</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">As Young's art shows, what looks to some people like menial tasks can become epic and noble when we bring our creative gifts to them. To find your calling, look for your creative center. And then look for ways to create at work! You might find that your calling is not as distant or as elusive as you thought. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">Happy Labor Day! </span>Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-91439451259110890422011-08-26T15:01:00.000-07:002011-08-26T15:01:47.086-07:00What if the Door Has Slammed Shut on my Calling in Life? <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>773</o:Words> <o:Characters>4407</o:Characters> <o:Company>Brigham Young University</o:Company> <o:Lines>36</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>8</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>5412</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">I made a new friend recently. He’s a young man I’ll call Grant (not his real name). I met up with Grant after he wrote to me about my BYU speech titled "What is Your Calling in Life?” (you can see the speech <a href="http://www.byub.org/talks/Talk.aspx?id=3967">here</a> or read it <a href="http://www.byub.org/talks/transcripts/devo/2010/6/devo201061-3967.pdf">here</a>). Most people who write me about that talk tell me that it gave them helpful direction, but Grant’s message was very different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here’s an excerpt: </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-size: 18.0pt;">“I have found something which speaks to my soul. I have wanted to be an officer in the United States Marine Corps for a very long time… Despite years of diligent physical preparation, excellent grades, a record of achievement and compelling letters of recommendation from professors and former employers, I have been medically disqualified from service. This has been a terrible blow. I am pursuing waivers in order to protect my ambitions but I have to face reality--chances are slim to none (worse, probably) that my efforts will come to anything.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-size: 18.0pt;">Given that career paths associated with my college degree are totally unappealing to me, how should I go about finding a new calling in life? Frankly, nothing is nearly as compelling to me as military service.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-size: 18.0pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal">I couldn’t get Grant’s note off my mind, so I took the unusual step of inviting him to breakfast when I happened to be traveling where he lives. His question demanded a careful answer, and I wanted to better understand the challenge of unavailable callings. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Meeting Grant was a treat. He is bright, extremely earnest, and passionate about his country and about honoring the men and women who serve in the military. I could feel the heartbreak as he talked about his shattered dreams. And I heard echoes of many other similar stories – ranging from the student who dreams of being a professional athlete, but lacks the talent, to the aspiring entrepreneur who foregoes her dream venture to care for an ailing spouse. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I wish I had a golden answer for Grant. Alas, it’s not as easy as that. But I’d like to share a bit about my conversation with him in case others reading this blog are feeling despair about an “impossible calling.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My first response to Grant was to ask him some pointed questions: What sparked your interest in being a Marine officer? What, exactly, did you envision yourself doing? Why is it important to you? </div><div class="MsoNormal">Grant told me that being a Marine officer would provide him the perfect blend of at least three of his deepest professional yearnings: physical challenge, leadership and mentorship opportunities, and protecting the well-being of the servicemen and women that he so admires. He’s right. Marine officer does seem the perfect job for him! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But then I explained to Grant something that I have mentioned elsewhere in this blog. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A calling is not equivalent to a job title</i>. The great Reformation thinkers (as well as my own research) depict a calling as a constellation of talents and passions that one discovers how to use <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">within the life opportunities with which one is blessed</i>. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This classic definition of calling turns the contemporary definition on its head. Modern management gurus tell you that a calling means finding what you love and then “selling” it to the world. Martin Luther and John Calvin tell us that a calling means looking at the situation life has placed you in, finding out what the needs are, and then using your gifts to serve those needs in your own unique way. That’s a much less romantic view of calling. But it’s much more realistic, and makes callings accessible to virtually everyone. It also has the wonderful benefit of subordinating selfishness and celebrating service to others. And we could spend hours talking about why the latter is a surer route to fulfillment than the former. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">What is my friend Grant to do, though? I doubt that I alleviated the sharp sting he is feeling from his bitter disappointment. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I encouraged Grant to continue looking for ways around his medical disqualification. Persistence often pays off, even in the face of great obstacles! But I also encouraged him to open his mind to letting go of his narrow view of how he can best serve the world. That’s tough advice, since Grant has built his entire self-image around his professional dreams. Could it be, though, that the closing of this door was actually for the best? Might God have a different use for Grant’s unique set of gifts and passions that will bring him even greater joy? That was certainly the case for me as I look back at a few doors that slammed in my face earlier in my career. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">To figure out what to do next, Grant needs to start asking the following types of questions: Where would other combinations of his interests lead him? Might he find opportunities for leadership and service to country by working for the Federal Government – perhaps in the Department of Defense? Might he combine his desires for physical challenge and leadership by pursuing a career in emergency management or disaster relief? The reality is that Grant (and almost all of us) are much too complex and multifaceted creatures to be limited to a single life path. Your unique gifts (and Grant’s) are vitally needed in more than one place. And, if you are like most people nowadays, your pursuit of a calling will usher you through many different job titles. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My heart aches for Grant. But only in the short term. His dream position might now be unavailable to him. But his calling in life is very much intact. </div><!--EndFragment-->Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-35997070845435020252011-08-14T21:37:00.000-07:002011-08-17T19:00:08.334-07:00Finding Professional Inspiration in the Smelliest of PlacesCustomer service here on the BYU campus is generally outstanding.<br />
<br />
With one exception.<br />
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The staff at the mens locker room equipment issue desk act like moody adolescents. They sit hunched over their laptops playing games, and seem annoyed if you interrupt them. They don't make eye contact when you talk to them. In fact, I generally get no more than a grunt from them when they hand me a clean towel after my racquetball game. It's the least welcoming service desk I've ever seen.<br />
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I can't say that I blame them for being less than enthusiastic about their work. I won't try to describe the sights and smells that surround them -- it is, after all, a mens locker room! But that's what makes Noah so remarkable.<br />
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I met Noah, one of the locker room staff, a few years ago when I first rented a locker. He was a tall, affable student with a big smile and a very respectful manner. I mentioned to him that I was disappointed that the lockers were too small for my racquet to fit in them. He said, "Here, I've got just the ticket." Then he showed me to the back of the room where a top-tier locker happened to be missing a ceiling panel, allowing my racquet to fit snugly inside. I thought, "Wow, this guy is different than the others."<br />
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The next time I saw Noah, he greeted me by my first name. I was really surprised because I hadn't introduced myself; he had remembered my name from my rental contract. In fact, every time I came in, Noah greeted me personally. He asked me questions about my work and family. Eventually, I asked his name too (I'm a little slower with social graces, I guess) and began to learn about him. We got to be friends, and I was genuinely sad when he disappeared one spring -- presumably after graduating.<br />
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Noah is an inspiration to me. Working in one of the least appealing jobs on campus, he brought dignity, professionalism, and genuine service to his work. I'm sure I was just one of many of his "customers" that he treated as friends. The contrast between him and his Neanderthal colleagues was astounding.<br />
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I'm not saying that working in a locker room is Noah's calling in life. Far from it. But it was obvious to me that he was honing his talents, using them to serve others, and making the very most of a pretty crummy job. I actually think he was happy working there. And I'll bet dollars to donuts that he will find his calling in life much more quickly than the resentful grumps who won't make eye contact with me when I thank them for the clean towel.<br />
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Wherever you are now, Noah, my hat is off to you! You are in my pantheon of people who bring nobility to their work where I least expected it.Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-80687203831836933922011-07-26T22:55:00.000-07:002011-07-27T11:56:10.804-07:00What if My Calling in Life Doesn't Pay Enough to Live On?I had lunch today with Eli, a terrific former student. He was a superstar in the MPA program, and then accepted a challenging HR job. After a year, he knew he was in the wrong place. So he left, and landed his current job, which is teaching elementary school to 7- and 8-year olds in a French language immersion school.<br />
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Eli's eyes light up when he talks about his work. He knows that he is really making a difference. He shared a story about a belligerent child that he was able to reach, and who now enjoys school. It was obvious to me that Eli is flourishing in his work. It may be his life's calling.<br />
<br />
But the reason for our lunch was to discuss a difficult question. It's one I hear a lot, but I must confess I don't think I have a great answer yet. Eli asked: "What if your calling in life won't pay the bills? Is it irresponsible of me to do something I love if I can't comfortably support my family at it?"<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi23urcB_ATjVccu8nfcezSQq2XdN7n96BqS2Jlxl5gaKwZ7as8o3YI8InFzu1C2MXa0lGwuLSwQM1UFC7dQCW2pHyvnCh18SmU8WgK6z7YCzJQR4BMBEraeotPNfjW52pz03t6bQEsvvc/s1600/money.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi23urcB_ATjVccu8nfcezSQq2XdN7n96BqS2Jlxl5gaKwZ7as8o3YI8InFzu1C2MXa0lGwuLSwQM1UFC7dQCW2pHyvnCh18SmU8WgK6z7YCzJQR4BMBEraeotPNfjW52pz03t6bQEsvvc/s1600/money.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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Let me tread cautiously here. I certainly can't answer that question for anyone else. But I've thought about it a lot, and would like to share a couple of reactions and stories.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBCygLaD0xSvdTnvbIfHyDyZvKlBJ0iH7Zhr_qrIwBjJWunZrEHWACPTFfUOE7t51ErRisGOjeCT-2k7nkkZEa4pWXgLWOCq6lFoblQnvWkHR6BGkWxkd5MqLj2fO4lXBwGfzMvMKxHWM/s1600/money.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
</a><b>Reaction #1: What does it <i>really </i>mean to support a family?</b> If you contrast our luxurious Western lifestyle with most of the world, even our school teachers live in comparative opulence. Our perspective on "supporting a family" may be a little warped! My father was a school teacher. I grew up in a tiny house with very simple means (by US standards). Money was tight, and often a worry. Dad did extra jobs to make ends meet. But I did not personally suffer one iota from not having the best toys or the coolest vacations. My childhood was golden, and I like to think that I learned perspective, economy, and (hopefully) humility because of my upbringing. I certainly benefited from an example of a father who did meaningful work extremely well.<br />
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<b>Reaction #2: What <i>hidden costs</i> are you incurring by accepting lucrative work that you don't love? </b>During my short and miserable corporate career, I came home from work diminished. Because my work consumed my energy, rather than igniting it, I felt depleted by 6pm, and was less of a husband and father than I could have been. I probably would be wealthier now if I'd stayed on the corporate track. But I shudder to think what it might have cost me in terms of my well-being and family relationships. If you are concerned about whether your work gives you enough money to support your kids, give deep consideration to this: how do you weigh the importance of giving your kids money against the importance of giving them your energy, joy, and example? <br />
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<b>Reaction #3: Are you really sure that your calling won't pay off in the long run?</b> We are most likely to excel when our work is our calling. And people who excel usually (not always) get rewarded in the long run. My MBA ethics professor told a story of a student who was passionate about restoring old cars. But he planned to set aside that passion for a financially secure career, even though he dreaded the work he was headed for. My professor urged him to trust that his real talents would allow him to be successful. So he took the great gamble and pursued a career in auto restoration. He eventually became one of the foremost car restorers in the world, owned his own auto museum, and did extremely well financially. I am <i>not</i> making any guarantees about your future by sharing this romantic story! But it is worth remembering as you think about whether you can "afford" your calling or not.<br />
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There are no easy answers to Eli's question. And I did suggest to Eli the possibility of shifting to a more lucrative career that could still capture his calling in life. But I hope you don't rush too quickly to abandon your calling because it might not make you rich. When I die, I'd rather have a smile on my lips from the joy of meaningful work than ulcers from toiling unpleasantly to make money.<br />
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And I'll take to my grave exactly the same dollar amount as the rich guy.Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-81076079458191669632011-07-21T22:58:00.000-07:002011-07-21T22:58:26.042-07:00Passion and Pizza: Finding Callings in Surprising PlacesSometimes my students teach me profound things about work as a calling. One day when I was teaching in Ohio, I asked the students (as I often do) what work they would do if they were wildly wealthy. I got the typical list, ranging from sports franchise owner to humanitarian.<br />
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Then one student, Nick LaRosa, said "I would do what I do right now. I'd serve pizza."<br />
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At first, I thought Nick was joking. Why would someone choose food service, of all things, if he could do any work he wanted? But Nick was absolutely serious.<br />
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Nick's grandfather, if my memory serves, is the founder of LaRosa's Pizzeria in Cincinnati, and Nick grew up in the family business. You can check out the company <a href="http://www.larosas.com/story.html">here.</a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIS-rNEUkOpUfDe1dWvYRxpXe4r77lJFmmOTOU55iYdezIvY6Y2NeII1eExjCRvrr4BusAVShHnnmuSXOAvPEthvLsHX1CD6TUOBKIF9E3BW7qpnK6E0hdDxj2ygjxXXs8uUuWgS5OFkc/s1600/storyPanel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIS-rNEUkOpUfDe1dWvYRxpXe4r77lJFmmOTOU55iYdezIvY6Y2NeII1eExjCRvrr4BusAVShHnnmuSXOAvPEthvLsHX1CD6TUOBKIF9E3BW7qpnK6E0hdDxj2ygjxXXs8uUuWgS5OFkc/s320/storyPanel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As near as I recall, Nick explained his answer as follows: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"I love what I do. People come to our restaurant to celebrate, and to be with each other. When I serve them a great pizza, I'm part of a memory-making moment. I can't think of anything more satisfying than contributing to wonderful memories among family and friends." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As Nick finished speaking, the class grew quiet -- almost reverent. It was a moving testimonial. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Nick's comments reminded me of one of my favorite interviews in Studs Terkel's book "Working." Terkel interviewed a waitress named Dolores Dante who considered herself an artist at her food service craft. You might want to check out an excerpt of what she had to say <a href="http://www.context.org/ICLIB/IC37/Dante.htm">here.</a> It's amazing. Better yet, buy the book!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In any case, Nick taught me that we might be missing the boat if we are looking for glamor in our life's calling. Instead, maybe we should be looking for the simple acts that we love to do -- particularly the ones that make others happy. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh, and make sure you give a big smile and a big tip to food servers who treat you like Nick and Dolores would!</div>Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-52710592051019305732011-07-13T22:50:00.000-07:002011-07-13T22:50:04.558-07:00Beating Drudgery at Work (Part II)I often hear people complain that their jobs don't challenge them, or that they are just putting in their time at a lousy company until they can discover their true calling in life. I sympathize with those folks, because I have been there. But -- and I hope people won't take offense at this -- I also wonder if we sometimes use drudgery as a crutch to excuse ourselves from <i>exercising</i> our callings. <div><br />
</div><div>Of course, some jobs just don't fit us particularly well. But are you perhaps taking too static a view of your job? Granted, you probably have a list of formal job descriptions that aren't negotiable, but unless you are on a factory floor (and sometimes even then), you may have a lot more discretion than you recognize to shape what you do and how you do it. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Let me introduce three brilliant and wonderful colleagues (some of my favorite people!) who have made a huge splash with a new tool: "Job Crafting." Justin Berg (Wharton), Jane Dutton (U. of Michigan), and Amy Wrzesniewski (Yale) have developed an exercise that has been highlighted in Time Magazine, Business Week, and other major media outlets. It's a fascinating and fun activity that helps you, in about an hour's time, to create visual representations of your work and identify ways that you can reshape your job to better fit your gifts and interests. To quote the Job Crafting website, the exercise "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Bitstream Charter', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">encourages you to view your job in a new way — as a flexible set of building blocks rather than a fixed list of duties." </span></div><div><br />
</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Bitstream Charter', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"></span>I love that perspective! If you feel alienated by your job, or mired in drudgery, you don't have to postpone finding your calling. Start building your gifts into your work now. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I heartily endorse the Job Crafting exercise. Check it out <a href="http://www.centerforpos.org/the-center/teaching-and-practice-materials/teaching-tools/job-crafting-exercise/">here!</a> There's a great video that explains how it works, and there is a free version for students. </div><div><div><br />
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</div><div> </div></div></div>Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-25691102846142364322011-07-01T22:28:00.000-07:002011-07-13T22:14:37.690-07:00Beating Drudgery at Work (Part I)So, if you are reading this blog, I hope you are getting the picture that having a calling doesn't mean that work is all fun and games. Indeed, our zookeeper research suggests that slogging through drudgery is a price you pay to find meaning; drudgery and meaning are often two sides of the same coin. It usually takes a lot of mundane work to create something that lasts.<br />
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If you pay too much attention to the romanticized version of calling (i.e., 24/7 bliss), you can easily start to feel cheated at work: "Hey, if this is what I'm really meant to do, why am I bored/tired/disinterested/etc.?"<br />
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I have a lot of thoughts on this subject, but I'll share just one tonight. And it's personal.<br />
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My academic profession is most definitely my calling in life. But the drudgery of writing - especially when I'm facing the dreaded blank computer screen at the beginning of a project - can almost paralyze me. I have to drag myself to write that first sentence, and the second one is only marginally easier. On my worst days, I find a thousand creative ways to postpone my writing. I gradually accrue little droplets of guilt, and by the end of the day, with nothing written, I'm drenched in it. String enough of those guilt-soaked days together, and it's easy to begin doubting whether I'm really meant to be a professor.<br />
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Then I learned a technique that changed everything. In fact, I attribute getting tenure to this one strategy. It's not rocket science. It's simply to BEGIN every work day by spending 15 minutes on the hardest thing you have to do. (A hearty thanks to my friend, Jane Birch of the BYU Faculty Center, for teaching me this!)<br />
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The results were astonishing.<br />
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<ul><li>First, I was amazed at how much I could get done in just 15 minutes of focused writing. </li>
<li>Second, 15 minutes was usually enough to get me over the drudgery hump, and I often wrote for much longer. </li>
<li>Third, the rest of my day was unencumbered with dread or guilt, so I felt far more energized and creative. </li>
<li>Fourth, I reconnected with my sense of calling. I knew who I was. I was a scholar, because I was writing!</li>
</ul>Caveat: just because this worked so well for me, doesn't mean it's a one-size-fits-all technique. Some people feel better starting with a fun task and gradually working into the harder stuff. But if your sense of drudgery is overpowering your sense of calling, try doing the hardest thing first. You might find, like me, that your professional calling snaps into perspective once you stop hiding from the biggest challenges.Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-982906242727054015.post-42899405804776733942011-06-20T16:30:00.000-07:002011-07-02T06:14:15.203-07:00If You Think You are Too Vanilla to Have a Calling... (Part 2)<div class="MsoNormal">One of the great falsehoods of contemporary life, fueled by the cult of celebrity, is that you must be exceptional to have a calling. Our media gives us a constant diet of technological wizards, newly discovered talent idols, and celebrity chefs. Watch enough brilliant people give TED talks, and it’s easy to conclude, “Well, I’m just not that special.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When we equate callings with jaw-dropping talent, Martin Luther rolls over in his grave. He introduced the idea of calling during the Reformation, and what he meant was that every one of us – including the humblest – have a calling, which is simply to use whatever resources we’ve been given to bless God’s children. Callings are <i>not </i>the privilege of the exceptional, but the province of the ordinary. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“OK,” you might respond, “that’s all well and good. But my talent is so run-of-the-mill that I just blur into the landscape. How can I make a difference doing X if a thousand other people are just as good at it, if not better than me?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here’s where I’d like to introduce my new friend – Santiago Michalek – who gave me some novel insights. Santiago is a young artist who is exceptionally gifted. At a recent art show, I encountered the following painting (reproduced here with Santiago’s permission). It stopped me dead in my tracks – in part because it was so stunning, and in part because it reminded me of my time in Ghana. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ttbvXDRUUYdrBS2PRrx6hGXyIoP1-4_6XdyfmaRI6mlOl3KncSfdEjMH8OwCXAD5DwjNa7CXqzTc2TQL6wKQe8_os3lUUT0U7o_YAlwnx6U_yfqbJqqevfbOyW6mInx8kmnMe0nWAQo/s1600/Ghana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ttbvXDRUUYdrBS2PRrx6hGXyIoP1-4_6XdyfmaRI6mlOl3KncSfdEjMH8OwCXAD5DwjNa7CXqzTc2TQL6wKQe8_os3lUUT0U7o_YAlwnx6U_yfqbJqqevfbOyW6mInx8kmnMe0nWAQo/s320/Ghana.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">But Santiago is just one of countless talented young artists trying to make their mark on the world. Unfortunately, just having a talent for painting is not enough to give most artists the elusive opportunity for popular success. That’s true of most of the rest of us as well. We can’t really hope to be the best in the world at (or sometimes even get noticed for) something that a lot of other people do. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Let’s look at another of Santiago’s pieces, though. This one is much more representative of the work that he is currently doing. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinha1LWxRCU8dudHYyp_-t9rtoACFNgmcj7YOkWGVx5S00jTPOTJKV4Ikn5EYVfTuKi7iCZMBwzT1pTVz47msYZSE02XM9VCAY3V0GGF1y0UfOC1dDl7QNX3mMJIqlUmXKZTb93yT0cTU/s1600/VW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinha1LWxRCU8dudHYyp_-t9rtoACFNgmcj7YOkWGVx5S00jTPOTJKV4Ikn5EYVfTuKi7iCZMBwzT1pTVz47msYZSE02XM9VCAY3V0GGF1y0UfOC1dDl7QNX3mMJIqlUmXKZTb93yT0cTU/s320/VW.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I must admit that when I first saw Santiago’s Volkswagen work, it didn’t do much for me. I’m not really a car person, and I didn’t immediately see the aesthetics in this kind of art. Later, though, I learned that Santiago is not just an artist. He’s also a passionate restorer of old VWs. He has studied and mastered their anatomy as thoroughly as he has mastered the anatomy of the human figures he draws. Learning about Santiago's mechanical passion gave me an entirely different perspective on his art. I noticed that his VW paintings seem to caress each old car with light (pay attention to the amazing reflections and overlays of light on the windshield and front of the van, for instance). In Santiago’s work, the rusting hull of a beat-up bug isn’t a discarded relic, but a thing to be restored and revitalized – kind of like people who sometimes feel defeated by life. That was meaningful to me. And to the many people who are quasi-religious in their devotion to old VWs (I’m related to a couple of them!), Santiago’s art represents a truly unique contribution. As far as he knows, he is the only artist who has combined a passion for painting with a passion for VW restoration, and his VW paintings are the ones that are opening up the most doors in his promising future career. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">(Check out Santiago's other work <a href="http://www.santiagomichalek.com/">here</a>, or his blog <a href="http://santiagofineart.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2010-09-22T10%3A00%3A00-06%3A00&max-results=7">here.</a>)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For me, the takeaway was very crisp. We don’t discover our calling by figuring out what our <i>one </i>talent is. We discover our calling when we explore the intersection of our <i>various</i> talents. Like the innumerable combinations of DNA that make us unique, each of us has a mind-boggling complexity of gifts, abilities, interests, and viewpoints. Your combination of gifts is as unique as your fingerprint. There never has been and never again will be someone in the world who has your particular repertoire of dispositions and abilities! The world needs that combination, and can’t get it anywhere else but from you.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So if you feel like you are just one of many who are soldiering along in your work, stop and take inventory of your gifts. Think very, very broadly. If you are an accountant, what talents and abilities will make you a different flavor of accountant than anyone else? If you are a secretary, how can you use your array of gifts to be the only secretary quite like you? No painter is <i>just</i> a painter. And nobody is just vanilla. Your flavor is a very complex one (as a celebrity chef might say). And that’s what will make your calling unique. </div>Jeff Thompsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16992990751971099071noreply@blogger.com3