I always thought that I would write fiction and perhaps that
is what this is. It truly is fiction if the words only stay locked in your brain.
Thoughts this week about a contract with yourself/with
others/ a different kind of employment contract. What if we wrote out our terms and conditions
with our employers that went beyond the dollars/hour (week, month, year) and
the usual blah blah blah about hours and roles and responsibilities. What if it described how it would feel to
have success, recognition and satisfaction?
What if it detailed your long term dreams and ambitions? What if the opportunity to have a nap on
Tuesday afternoons was included?
Now, Google may have already had this brilliant idea and
re-written the usual working agreement, but I suspect most of us are still
signing work papers that look pretty much how they did 60 years ago. And yet this document and the implications
for how you spend your time govern most of your waking hours for most of your
adult life.
We have been told we now have the freedom to have multiple
jobs, several careers, pursue our passions and not be stopped by reaching age
65. 60 is the new 30, right? You can carry on living (working) your dream
until you die. How enlivening is
that? How much does that make your blood
pump faster and your breathing increase?
I would bet that if it does, it is because you might feel a little
panicked. Oh sh*^, I have to keep doing “this”
for the rest of my days? Crap, I would
like to go back to the fantasy of “Freedom 55” please.
But this idea of a contract or agreement that sets out much
more than the bare bones of how you want it to be has expanded in my head. What if pre-nuptials took a different look at
what the expectations are of that partnership?
What if we re-wrote a contract with our children every year of their
lives? What if we revisited our
relationship with our elderly parents – reviewing how we want that to look on a
regular basis? And our close
friends? Could we be more clear on how
friendship is described and circumvent some of the pitfalls there?
There are many places we fail to describe how we want it to
go, especially when time goes by and we gain familiarity with each other. We live with discontent and sometimes
downright anguish without a clear description of what would be perfect.
As I begin the journey of post graduate education – really at
the early steps right now, application in, first on-line course, a recommended
pre-requisite, started 2 weeks ago – I have come face to face with how little
of my life has been described in sufficient detail to increase the likelihood
of success. Even at this late stage (let’s
just say the “Freedom 55” boat has left the harbour), I am extremely challenged
by the necessity of a structured business plan for the next 15 years of life.
I am in the situation that at least some of my peers are
in. We didn’t pursue careers, or in my
case, even higher education. We just
kept working the next job that came along, sometimes moving up the ladder,
sometimes not lasting that long. Kids
and all the endless hours of commitment to raising a family were along the way,
as well as supporting a spouse in their pursuit of success or advancement. Speaking for myself, I came up for air at
about 50, realized that I had no plans for retirement, no funds set aside for
my golden years, no mortgage that was just about paid off to secure a home for
the future and no idea what to do about all that. In fact, at that time, I was working with a group
of fabulous people who averaged 15 – 20 years younger than me so I just kept
working my fanny off to keep up.
When that job ended, another not quite 5 year engagement
(pretty much the maximum time I spent in any one place), I had a patchwork
resume, a little bit of self-directed education which thankfully left me with a
certificate in professional coaching and some vague thoughts about a loosely
described future doing what I loved, coaching others.
Not sure what else to do, I high tailed it into college,
jumping into a 2 year program in Human Resource Management. It was fantastic and I adored the challenge
of post-secondary education. For the
first time, I was directed to think in a different way, dive deeply into a
program that offered many pieces of education which I was interested in. Being a generalist course, it didn’t really
prepare me for much and as I found out part way through, I couldn’t even join
the professional HR organization because I didn’t hold an undergrad
degree. Not well thought out. However, the love of higher learning was
sparked and I committed to completing a Master’s program, eventually.
Fast forward a couple more years of scraps of part time
work, occasional contracts, facilitating coach training and time to ponder a
future that seems to be gaining speed in becoming the present. A friend’s recent death from cancer, three months after diagnosis - not
the first friend I have lost, impacted me differently this time. The trite expression of realizing how
precious life is and how little control we have over the eventual end of it
actually stuck this time.
During a long awaited holiday with my husband in Mexico, I began to notice
my resistance to saying yes to my dreams.
How hop-scotching through the stages of my life without fully landing on
any square has habituated me to a life that will be fulfilled one day – maybe,
possibly, if the stars line up, if my kids or mother don’t need me to rescue them, if I can justify the money, or, or, or…. In other words, never.
I don’t have a terrible life, don’t get me wrong. I have few regrets and maintain a happy,
optimistic view on the world. I am loved
and deeply love others. I practice
gratitude and appreciation every day and reap the rich rewards of that
perspective on the world. The question remains about kicking it up a notch as
our old friend Emeril would say. And
that is going to take an elaborate, explicit blueprint; a new contract, if you
will.
