Careers are made, or lost, in the ability/inability to put one foot in front of the other and continue to grow throughout the years. Always strive for more — whatever your definition of "more" may be.
I was at a conference earlier this year and was wallowing in indecision as to what I wanted to do with the next step of my career/life. I had a job offer from another group and was trying to decide what to do.
I felt I had already achieved everything that I could where I was currently working, and desperately needed a change—but I was stuck in the quicksand of indecision, guilt, and fear of leaving the comfortable and moving into the unknown.
Then I looked across the patio up where I was sitting and saw the following etched into a stone bench:
“You cannot turn back the hands of the clock; but you can wind it back up again!”
I returned to work the following morning. I gave my notice, accepted the other job and have now begun the process of re-invention.
Previously by Dianna Graves: Why your staff probably isn't prepared to handle a crisis
Careers are made, or lost, in the ability/inability to put one foot in front of the other and continue to grow throughout the years. To always strive for more—whatever your definition of “more “may be. To be able to look in that all too clear mirror and realize that necessity is not the mother of invention but it is re-invention that is the key!
With football season in full swing, I recently was watching the hometown team drive the ball down the field. The crowd was in a frenzy knowing a touchdown was imminent. There was an undercurrent of tension in the stadium. The quarterback unleashed a bomb downfield- the player was wide open. Arms up, ready to catch the ball and be the hero in the end zone. The ball went through his hands and hit him on the top of the helmet.
The play was over. No longer a hero—but definitely the goat.
Someone uttered: “He heard footsteps coming and lost his concentration.”
While we as managers think we are ready to streak down the field in triumph—often we are distracted by “footsteps” preventing us from venturing forward.
We fear the unknown. “If I do this, what might go wrong?” This allows us to stay the course, the safe, well-lit path we often walk. Pretty soon we get so good at following the path that we never venture off the trail. So we never pave a new way—we are simply taking a well, worn route. There’s no excitement, no challenge, no surprises.