The Second Time Around (Postscript)

 I actively pursued many hobbies when I was young : hiking in the Santa Cruz mountains; kayaking on Montterey Bay;  mountain biking to Mission Peak; or just reading a book while listening to my favorite jazz music.

Somehow , those hobbies became less important as I began to focus my time and effort on  the daily grind of putting a roof over my head, food on the table, clothes on my back, and a few dollars in the bank for a rainy day.

The daily grind became a 37-year "career" as a full-time employee and contractor in Silicon Valley: 17 jobs lasting 6 months to 6 years (and  7 layoffs lasting 3 to 11 months).

As a full-time employee, the daily grind consisted of constantly looking over my shoulder after being let go despite working long hours to meet tight deadlines.

As a contractor, the daily grind consisted of leaving without a trace after 6:00 pm since I was no longer obsessed with the golden handcuffs (eg, health insurance, 401(k) plan, or stock options) that shackled full-time employees to the notion of "job security".

The daily grind came  to an end when I moved to a more leisurely and affordable lifestyle in the San Joaquin Valley near Sacramento (see Nothing Personal, Just Business).

Friends and family ask me what I’m doing now.  I simply reply that I'm on a sabbatical. I don't bring work home with me. I don't unwind from the stress of 60 hour work weeks that made me dread Mondays. I'm not obsessed with layoffs that made me dread Wednesdays.

Today,  I focus my time and effort on dealing with diabetic neuropathy.

You see, my  life ha a a meaning, purpose, and plan. I just have to remember that it's not up to me to know (or understand) all of the details.

Three Rules (Epilogue)

I reflected on an article that states 20 years from now the only people who will remember that you worked late are your children. You see, I never took the time when I graduated from college to settle down, get married, and raise a family. Instead, I lived vicariously as a parental figure to my goddaughter Janelle (who still calls me Ninong), my nieces Lauren and Lacie (who still call me Uncle Joe), and my grandkids Deja, Dillon,  and Jayla (who still call me Tata Joe). 

I focused  my time on a “career” that consisted of 17 jobs since I graduated from college  (being employed anywhere from six months to six years). During that time, I survived 7 layoffs lasting anywhere from 3 to 11 months. I also worked as a contractor for three different companies in four years. Every time, I managed to put food on the table, clothes on my back, a roof over my head, and put a few dollars in the bank for a rainy day as I accepted that my “career” would often consist of looking for the next job.

So, I consider my biggest achievement is the time and attention that I devoted to my "babies". Through a lifetime of family gatherings  such as birthday parties and backyard barbecues, I loved each of them as though they were my own, doting on them and spoiling them for sure, but also ready with a stern word should the occasion arise. 

And when I got laid off for the first time in 1994, it gave me time to do more than just put food on the table, clothes on my back, and a roof over my head — it also gave me the chance to spend time with my goddaughter Janelle and recite my three rules for the first time: 

    • "Please and thank you."

    • "You have to listen." 

    • "You cannot always have your way."

Those rules served as a compass when that day eventually came, they could go to farther off places and I know they would be all right.

"Please and thank you” is a reminder to be respectful of others, and that “No” is a complete sentence (no reason needs to be given).

"You have to listen” is a reminder to consider others in your choices and be accountable to others for your actions.

"You cannot always have your way” is a reminder that if it is not possible for you to accept people, places, situations, or outcomes for what they are, then it is probably about “you” rather than about “them”.

When it came time, I let them go so they could close their eyes, dream big, open their eyes, and work hard to make their dreams come true. I only remind them that just as important as what they accomplish in their careers is the kind of person they become along the way. 

Serenity

As part of my morning routine during the trying times we all live in, I have been taught to recite a prayer that is often quoted as:

God grant me the serenity,
To accept the things I cannot change, 
Courage to change the things that I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.

The complete version of the Serenity Prayer, that I use goes something like this:

God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change (ie people, places, situations, and outcomes),
Courage to change the things that I can (Ie, my attitudes and my actions),
and the wisdom to know the difference (ie, Thy will, not mine, be done).
Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
Taking, as He did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it,
Trusting that He will make all things right,
If I surrender to His will,
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with Him forever in the next.

— Reinhold Niebur

I found that the short form is like a billboard you see along the highway -- easily recognized, yet not always understood. The longer version for me is like a roadmap that I can use to navigate the highway from Point A to Point B, with clear directions about the route I need to take and milestones that I can look for along the way.

You see, I am often tempted to sum up my life goals as buzz words that can fit on that billboard along the highway -- serenity, acceptance, courage, wisdom. But I don't have a clue at times on how to achieve these goals.

So when life hits me with Doom (the fear of losing what I have) or Gloom (the fear of not getting what I want), those buzz words often ring hollow in what I actually say and do.

Then, I react to rumors of layoffs, news that friends and colleagues have been laid off, or even when a boss doesn't smile at me when we pass in the hallway, by resorting to that persistent worry "How does this affect me?"

So, before I begin the insanity that I can easily make of the day by drifting into selfish, dishonest, or self-seeking motives, I try to reflect on what the complete version of the Serenity Prayer is intended to remind me.

Serenity can come to me whenever I take the day as it comes without the expectation that life should be "happily ever after" if everybody (including myself) would just behave.

When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation – some fact of my life – unacceptable to me. I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing, happens in God’s world by mistake.

Acceptance can come to me whenever I am willing to do the footwork and let a God of my understanding determine the outcome for the good of all (not just for me). Unless I accept life completely on life’s terms, I cannot be happy.

Courage can come to me whenever a faith in a God of my understanding gives me the strength to do the next right thing even if it doesn't make me "look good" or "feel good". I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in my attitudes and my actions.

Wisdom can come to me whenever my words and actions show that a God of my understanding is doing for me what I cannot do for myself. This becomes possible when I let go of my ideas about what should be and embrace what is instead.

In other words, letting go of my ego allows me to be reasonably happy in this life, and supremely happy forever in the next.  I ask a God of my understanding for the willingness to do the next right thing even if it doesn’t make me “look good” or “feel good”. Then I  let a God of my understanding determine the outcome for the good of all (not just for me).

Count My Blessings

I admit that I have been hard on myself (and others) for quite a while now. So, before I start feeling too sorry for wasting my precious time, I'll restart my day by counting the blessings that did come my way:

• I see that my attitude has changed from "the glass is half empty" to "the glass is half full". Perhaps a small change (like making lemonade when you're given lemons), but I hope one that will lead to better and more fulfilling choices.
• I learned to accept life on life's terms. I could only face the challenges with my health and employment due to the encouragement and understanding of  friends and colleagues who shared  their own experience, strength and hope with me.
• I came to terms with a kind and loving God of my understanding. Over time, I see that God is doing for me what I cannot not do for myself. Indeed, I now  accept that my life has a meaning, purpose, and plan beyond just a knee jerk reaction to the self-centered fears of Doom (the fear of losing what I have) and Gloom (the fear of not getting what I want).
• I can move on now that my footwork is done and I have turned  the outcome over to God. I put my life on hold as I dealt  with the financial and emotional insecurity moving from the San Francisco Bay  Area to the San Joaquin Valley near Sacramento (see The Second Time Around). Perhaps, for the first time in a long time, I can honestly say that today is the first day of the rest of my life.

I'm feeling better already.

 

That Was Then, This Is Now

 I've noticed that there  are certain personal traits  that can prevent me from living life on life's terms: thoughts that become words; words that become actions; actions that become habits; habits that shape character, character that determines  destiny.

Along with the 17 jobs that lasted 6 months to 6 years.  the 7 layoffs that lasted 3 to 11 months taught me a (somewhat) pragmatic  approach  to work as expressed by these  rules:

"Nothing personal, just business". Although managers  may say that they value me and my contributions, anyone is expendable if the bottom line takes a nosedive.

"If the boss says jump, ask how high." Either my words and actions have a positive impact on the bottom line, or I'm being added to the list of the next to be let go (this follows the "one finger points   out, three fingers point back" rule).

"Little changes now prepare me for the big change later".  Either I adapt as change inevitably happens, or I resist change and (eventually) get added to that list of the next to be let go.

I recall an incident over 10 years ago that serves as a constant reminder of how much my character has changed (and how much it has stayed the same).  I once watched a younger colleague--who looked much like me when I graduated from college -- act much like me when I graduated from college. This younger colleague berated another during work hours for being incompetent and wasting his precious time in a very public setting (well, there really is no privacy when you work in cubicles). The younger  colleague was let go shortly  afterwards.

While I was shocked at the poor manners of my younger colleague,  I realized  how my own  words and actions could  put me on the list of those to be let go next (or the infamous "sh-t list"). You see, I could  be  the most talented and accomplished  employee on paper, but  I also could be expendable  simply because I was unbearable.  Like my younger  colleague, my  bosses and colleagues may have put up with me, perhaps out of equal doses of empathy and pragmatism, only to be confronted with restlessness, irritability, and discontent. 

Time Out (Redux)

 I'm taking a time out because I've  hit that proverbial fork in the road, and I need to figure out  which way to turn. It started over a year ago  when I was told that I needed cataract surgery to correct my vision. Then, the COVID-19 pandemic hit in March and my surgery was cancelled. It was not until this month that I was  eligible  for the operation again.

As I look back,  I can see that I've been running around for the past year  trying to do the right thing and I  forgot that it was OK just to be me.  You see, I couldn't just call a time out like a football game to allow the medical personnel to come out on the field.

Instead, life just continued with the weekday  grind of putting a roof over my head, food on the table, clothes on my back, and a few dollars in the bank for the bills that need to be paid. On the other hand, I must admit that all of my needs (and many of wants) were met.

Still, I do catch myself saying "Been there, done that" all too often when I read job descriptions, a sure sign that I am becoming complacent -- or just plain bored. Perhaps it's time for me to move on after 30 years as a technical writer: 17 jobs that lasted 6 months to 6 years (including the 7 layoffs that lasted 3 to 11 months). 

Or, perhaps  it's just  time for me to thank the God of my understanding for doing for me what I cannot do for myself.

Another Day, Another Dollar (Redux)

 After looking over my LinkedIn profile, a recruiter reached out just to explore the possibility of working remotely on a full-time basis after I moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to the San Joaquin Valley near Sacramento.

The recruiter scheduled a day and time to call me. I waited, but the call never happened. I followed up with a message suggesting that it would be better for me to call at a day and time that the recruiter would be available.

After the arrangements were confirmed, the recruiter did not answer the phone when I called and I could not leave voicemail.

The runaround continued for several days before I sent a message stating I was no longer interested.

Still, I wasn't really disappointed about the outcome. You see, I'm taking a well-deserved sabbatical after working for a slew of pre-IPO startups to Fortune 500 companies: 17 jobs that lasted 6 months to 6 years along with the 7 layoffs that lasted 3 to 11 months.

My  life does have a meaning, purpose, and plan. I just have to remember that it's not up to me to know (or understand) all of the details.