Several years ago, shortly after my time at ABC had ended, I met a
longtime friend--one of those friends you may rarely see but who seems
to understand you anyway--to talk about my next steps. As she had also
changed jobs several times, each job seeming (at least to me) more
interesting than the last, I figured she would have good advice to give.
"Have coffee," she said. "Almost anyone is willing to take the time it
takes for a cup of coffee to share his or her experiences with you." I
have had many cups of coffee since then.
"Talk to lots of women your age," she added. Now, for all the years I'd
been working, I'd never thought much about age. I had worked with people
both older and younger than I, and I'd spent far more time considering
how they did their jobs than how old they were or where they were in
their careers. So, to seek out women my own age was kind of a new
concept. I tried, I think, though in reality, I probably focused more on
people's jobs than on their ages or places in life.
Yet, this weekend, as I found myself in email exchanges with four "women
my age," (more about schools for our kids than about jobs for
ourselves) simultaneously, I thought back to what my friend had said.
There was, I could feel, this underlying shared experience, an
understanding about a place in our lives, both as women and as parents,
that made the dialogue so simple, and yet incredibly satisfying. In that moment,
I somehow finally understood what my friend had proposed all those
years ago. We "women of a certain age" feel what it is like to be
accomplished, yet always potentially on the cusp of having to start
over. We share a feeling of being young daily, but perhaps older than we
thought when we have a birthday. We share that feeling of being
seasoned parents still coming up against parenting situations that
challenge us. We understand because we have "been there," or at least
come awfully close. It's not that we can't communicate with and learn
from the older and the younger. There are always things to be learned.
It's simply that we can have a shorthand that helps us get to the
learning a little more quickly.
So, today, I give thanks to, and for, all those "women of a certain age" who make
my life easier, more interesting, and, let's face it, a whole lot more fun.
As I entered the unsteady world of not working, yet not starving for the moment, the best advice I got was less than 2 days later. I had reached out to a recruiter / coach acquaintance, also of a certain age, and she completely blew apart my expectations -- I thought she'd leap into resume prep, strategies, when the market is hot or not, etc. She said "Resist the urge to try to get a job now. Over the holidays, when there is little movement anyway, give yourself the gift of time. Time to think, time to meet people for coffee or a holiday cocktail, time to reconnect informally. Don't say you want a job. Ask them about their careers. Think about where you want to end up. And tell people that you are giving yourself that small gift -- and you know what? They'll envy you the ability to give yourself that time." That night I slept well for the first time in months, as for months I knew what was coming and was trying in futility to push it off, prevent it, compensate for it and then react to it. So agreed, Tracy, coffee and talking is much more important than I realized and your friend was right -- almost anyone will share a cup of coffee.
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