New Beginnings

In life, we put a lot of emphasis on dates, on periods of time, and on milestone anniversaries.

Seven months ago today, due to a large corporate restructuring, I found myself holding the last seven years of my career in boxes.

Working at my previous company was some of the most exciting, unpredictable, and challenging years of my professional life. I had the privilege of working alongside incredibly passionate people — who pushed me to a level far beyond what I thought I was capable of. Under the helm of a visionary founder, I was part of projects and openings that even today, I feel immensely proud to have been a part of. I don’t regret a single minute of those seven years. Indeed, the range of experiences those years provided helped shaped the person I am today.

Finding myself sitting at home that morning over half a year ago was needless to say, a very unusual feeling. So much of our identity is fused with our jobs, our function, our company. Due to the drive to do our best, who we are personally and professionally grow so intertwined that it becomes almost indistinguishable. I was left with a very simple question: who was I if I was not in this role?

I spent the first month keeping myself busy. The abruptness of this massive life change was unnerving, so I told myself that I had to keep moving, keep pushing, keep going. I focused on future-forward pursuits and keeping positive; reading books I never managed to finish, increasing coaching engagements I had recently started, meeting with colleagues and industry friends I never had time for, and pursuing job boards constantly. A good friend told me that looking for a job IS a full-time job, and it certainly felt like it.

I’ve been seeing a wonderful counselor for the past few years, someone for whom I have enormous respect and affection. She’s helped me process times of anxiety and frustration, including my worries about imposter syndrome, and struggles with self-confidence. She’s always been a good sounding board for my soul. I met with her at the end of that busy month and updated her on my schedule and various activities. I shared how good I thought it was to be keeping busy and continuing to build momentum — and all with positive activities no less (no Netflix binges and pints of ice cream for me!). I was quite pleased with myself, and from a growth perspective, I felt that I had successfully avoided falling into a pit of frustration or worse, spiraling into a deep depression.

So I didn’t quite understand her question: “Why are you doing all this?”

I explained that I was staying busy and keeping momentum because I was on a path. No slow down, no rut. She was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Who are you doing this for?”

I replied, “For myself, obviously,” while a part of me started to feel absurd to be hearing these kinds of questions. She proceeded to ask me again: “Why are you doing this?” Before I could answer, she asked, “Why are you avoiding time with yourself?”

I was floored and had no idea how to respond. My mind was blank.

After a pause, she went on to explain that it was great that I was keeping busy. Doing positive things was certainly better than finding myself in a bottle or engaging in self-destructive activities. The issue, however, was that I was avoiding sitting with myself. With my thoughts. My emotions. My feelings. She encouraged me to do so, and to do “the work.”

“The Work” is really any process we go through by sitting with ourselves to try to understand how we truly feel. To be open and receptive to the feelings that arise, and to our reactions to it. To try to understand why we feel the things we do. The term is coined from the very powerful 2017 documentary, The Work. Set entirely inside Folsom State Prison, The Work follows three men over the course of four days of intensive group therapy with incarcerated men, revealing an intimate and powerful portrait of authentic human transformation that transcends what we think of as “rehabilitation.” (I watched it that afternoon in one sitting and highly recommend it to everyone.)

So, I sat with myself.

It wasn’t easy. We’re conditioned to keep busy, to always be juggling multiple things. Whether at work or at home, we feel the need to be efficient and manage numerous tasks, in order to either validate our productivity or simply try and save time. From my earliest internships, jobs and working in Food & Beverage for the first four years of my career, one thing was ingrained: You need to always be doing something. Moving from the restaurant to the kitchen? Make sure you’re bringing items to the stewarding station. Bringing dishes to a table? Make sure you’re also taking the order for another guest, or acknowledging someone ready to pay their bill.

There is no downtime, and God forbid you’re standing still. From our formative years through adulthood, social conditioning has made it not only difficult, but almost frowned upon, to only be doing one thing.

We carry this mindset throughout our lives — I know I have for many years — so it’s no wonder we feel so exhausted in these times.

It’s funny, this notion of sitting with oneself. Of just spending time trying to be still, mindful and focused. Meditating is probably very difficult for most of us, as it requires the ability to focus solely on one thing. One of my favorite videos on meditation is on “How to train your monkey mind,” by Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche. Trust me, it’s worth the two minutes to watch. Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche is a Tibetan teacher and master of the Karma Kagyu and Nyingma lineages of Tibetan Buddhism. He’s written two best-selling books and oversees the Tergar Meditation Community, an international network of Buddhist meditation centers.

So, I kept trying to sit with myself. To train my monkey mind. And to give myself the time to do so. That’s probably been the greatest part of this journey. I’m truly grateful that having this unexpected time has allowed me to do “the work.” To be able to think about what’s important and what matters most to me. Purpose is something I’ve spoken a lot about over the years. In my coaching sessions, I often speak about checking one’s map, ensuring that you’re on a path to a destination you actually want to reach.

I realized I had to check my own map. To reexamine my purpose.

For those who know me, and those who’ve worked with me over the past 19 years can attest, I was someone who always knew what my purpose was: to be the guardian of the culture. Defender of the values. Organizational culture is something I hold in very high regard. It is the connective thread that runs through everyone in a company, helping to guide and manage in service of the vision for which it stands.

Through the process of sitting with myself, of untangling the branches of my previous role and who I was, I realized something: I had as much control and influence over the culture as I did over the weather. Sure, I could hold my ground on behavior and intentions we should demonstrate, I could continue to promote focus and its virtues. But the reality is, while leaders have a larger responsibility, validation of the culture is in everyone’s hands. The culture I inherently believed I could influence and protect, was no different than attempting to build a bridge of sand on the beach.

When this realization set in, I’ll admit it wasn’t the greatest feeling. I didn’t leave the house for two days and found myself feeling adrift and wondering what the last two decades of my life were about. Had I been following a false flag in my professional life? Had I been championing a cause that ultimately could not achieve completion?

Uncertainty and self-doubt is never a pretty thing.

So, I sat with myself more. I thought about what really mattered, and what I believed was important to me.

People put up walls and barriers in their personal and professional lives. In our personal lives, it’s often due to difficult childhoods, bad relationships, broken trust from friends, or hearts shattered by misguided love. Professionally, we get penalized for our opinions, passed over for promotions, and at times get told we’re not good enough to fit into certain boxes.

In our personal lives, it takes time and trust to open up, to be truly vulnerable. To take down those walls and be your true self with another person. Strong partnerships and friendships have taught us that it’s possible.

However, in our professional lives, it shouldn’t be the case that people need to put up walls to protect themselves. People shouldn’t be fearful or ashamed to open up and share their insecurities, their fears, and how it can overcome them. People should feel safe to be vulnerable in their professional lives too.

As is the case with most epiphanies, mine came so clearly and sharply that I wondered why it never materialized before. I had finally realized my purpose.

I’ve been fortunate enough to have lived and worked in many countries over the years. I’ve been blessed with parents who sacrificed greatly to provide my sister and I with excellent educations. Although I wasn’t the greatest student at school, I am humbled to have had the opportunity to learn so much from this world, and from so many people who’ve taught me about conviction and morals. I’ve also met those who’ve shaken my confidence to the core and made me question everything.

I now realize that my purpose is to defend people’s capacity to grow. The capacity to develop, learn, and flourish. I want those I work with to feel safe, and to feel open to being vulnerable. For us to find those strengths together and build upon who we are. Whether through my coaching or my learning, this is the North Star for me.

And for the first time in a long while, I slept deeply.

I decided that no matter what I ended up doing professionally, this would be the purpose that guided those actions and paths. Trust and openness don’t come easily, and all progress begins with the truth. It’s important that I continue to do “the work” myself. So, I’m trying every day. I try to connect to my most authentic and true self daily. It’s not easy, but I’m going to keep trying.

In Brené Brown’s great book, The Gifts of Imperfection, there is an amazing quote:

“Whenever I’m faced with a vulnerable situation, I get deliberate with my intentions by repeating this to myself: “Don’t shrink. Don’t puff up. Stand your sacred ground.” Saying this little mantra helps me remember not to get too small so other people are comfortable, and not throw up my armor as a way to protect myself.”

Over the past half-year, my wife has been incredible in her support and love, and I’m deeply grateful for the encouragement and undying comfort from my parents and sister. I’ve been touched by the kindness and genuine care from friends, former colleagues, and people from the industry who’ve reached out and connected. And I’ve been disappointed with those who disappeared like old dreams.

I’ve also learned to let go of what doesn’t add value to my life.

I’m very fortunate and appreciative of the experiences of these past months, that have helped me rediscover who I truly am. It’s been an amazing journey, which has many more miles to go.

Don’t shrink. Don’t puff up. Stand your sacred ground.

Time to do something meaningful again.