Career Shift Blog
by Rachel B. Garrett
Get Your Gratitude On!
Last Sunday, my husband and I took our two kids and two of their friends on a long walk to a teeny theater where we saw (and participated in) a Family Improv show. As we took in the sunny Sunday in our neighborhood, with four kids who were beaming with the anticipation of being entertained—I had one of those moments where I realized—this is what it’s all about.
Their joy was contagious. I halted all of my hurrying and lingering worries about getting four slow moving children to a destination on time. Instead, I felt a warm calm come over me and I was grateful for every aspect of that moment.
I was grateful that I…
Was able to completely disconnect from my business to be with the people I love.
Could hear the kids’ laughter before the show even started.
Was watching them hold each other’s hands, knowing that they already have close friends that feel like family.
Live in a neighborhood where we can walk to a Family Improv show.
When I have these moments, my gut instinct is often to keep going, keep doing and continue with the busyness of my day. And yet, in the few years since I’ve restructured my life, created more space and awareness of what’s working and what’s not—I’ve begun to practice presence in these moments. I know that when I stop and truly take it in, I’m changed.
Here are three ways practicing gratitude has helped me create a life and career I savor:
1. It pulls me out of stress and negativity
When I feel the pressure of a stressful situation, where I may feel stuck or without control, I create some time for myself to either think about all the things I have or do something I’m thankful to be able to do. Going for a run or walk reminds me of my good health and that I have another day where it’s possible for me to do this powerful thing for my body and mind.
2. It gives me motivation to work through the tough bits
Even dream careers are not easy! There are moments when I’m struggling to do something I’ve never learned to do or nights my daughters cry if I have to be out in the evening. Those are times I choose to be grateful for a career where I’m constantly learning. I also think about having a partner who is warm and loving and quite accomplished at taking over parental duties when I’m not around. And about daughters who see that with hard work and belief, women can run their own businesses and become financially independent. It’s those things that pull me over the hurdle of the discomfort and tears.
3. It reminds me that I’m creating a life based on what’s important to me
My moment of gratitude when I feel I’m fulfilling on my vision is my victory lap. This is what it’s all for. This is what I’m creating. Taking the time to acknowledge it, celebrate it and truly feel it with every cell of my being is what reminds me—this is possible and I’m doing it.
Luckily, the show exceeded everyone’s expectations (which was tough to do). My 9-year-old went up on stage and channeled intense visions of hot lava and pink fluffy unicorns. And when the emcee asked for audience suggestions about something you’re thankful for, my 6-year-old raised her hand and called out, "My family!" My husband and I, on either end of four rapt children gave each other a smile and a telepathic high five. This is possible and we’re doing it.
When Thanksgiving Reminds You of the People Who Won't Be There
As my husband prepared his Thanksgiving assignments last week, I looked down at our list of family members and their delicious sounding contributions. My heart was full. And yet I was also struck by a deep pang, knowing our Thanksgiving Coordinator in Chief was not listed.
Ever since my Aunt Marilyn's stroke in February and passing in April, there have been the day-to-day losses and grief, but we all knew this day would come, and felt lucky every moment that it wasn't yet here. On the ride to the cemetery back in the spring, my cousin read our minds by saying one word aloud. Thanksgiving. We all breathed out, spending the rest of the ride thinking—is it even possible to do this without her?
My family has been in this place before. The first Thanksgiving after my parents passed, I was 12, and we decided that it would make us feel better to do something completely different—go out to dinner. We were wrong. The quaint George Washington Manor didn't quite know what hit them, when we sent nearly every dish back to the kitchen and fought tears because the stuffing had thyme. They hated thyme.
This year, as an adult who has been through many losses, I know that no matter where we hold this family event and what we eat, there will be someone missing. Everything will taste different. Everything will feel different. And yet in order to move through, we simply need to do it and acknowledge that we are different.
We will recreate the stuffing, the best we can. No thyme.
We will retell the stories in the warmth of the people who loved her the most.
We will let ourselves fall apart.
We will be thankful for all we have and the many years we had together.
We will be open to creating something new.
We won't judge ourselves if we're not ready.
Knowing my experience of loss inside and out, the first of any moment without my person is the worst for me. However, I have also found it to be a time and space for true healing. This is hard, and it hurts, and I wish it wasn't happening, but it is possible to live through it. I've lived through it before, and I will again.
Luckily, the clichés are true. Working through deep losses has made me stronger, and this holiday will be no exception. Learning to live one more—very important—day without her will make me a little bit more of who I am, a little bit new and a lot of what she loved about me.
What Can You Give Up To Do What You Want To Do?
I don’t send holiday cards anymore. So, for those of you who thought you fell off my list, it’s actually the list that’s fallen off the list.
I know for many these cards bring a lot of joy—and I do love seeing the cards I receive. But serious stress would set in when I had to find the perfect photo and assemble the list of woefully out of date addresses. My resentment only grew as the return to sender cards would arrive and I inevitably became the default fixer of the mess.
Three years ago, on a particularly busy year, I turned to my husband and said, “I don’t know why we’re doing this every year and I’m done with it.” He expressed mild disappointment, but knew he didn’t want to sign up for the task—so we stopped, without saying more than a few words about it.
As the flurry of perfect baby and puppy photos began wallpapering our home in early December, I felt a few moments of shame and regret. And then I thought about all of the other amazing things I had done that fall instead of assembling the pieces of this project:
Ran a marathon
Made a baby shower for a terminally ill friend
Started a career transition
It was clear I gave up something that was meaningless and time consuming to me for things that were yes—time consuming—but also core to who I am and what fuels me. Of course, giving up on holiday cards was a small tweak to my life, but it was an experiment that gave way to larger changes on how I CHOOSE to spend my precious time and energy.
When you say “no” to something that feels like a drain on your life—no matter how small—you’re opening space to say “yes” to things that are meaningful to you. I must warn you, that once you get started, these moments of rebellion are delightfully satisfying. Get ready.
Take these steps to start saying “no” to things so you can shift your priorities:
Make a list of all the tasks (or in some cases, people!) that are both time-consuming and energy sucking. Call it “Drains.”
Create a 2nd list of things you’re dying to do, but feel you don’t have the time. Call this one, “Dreams.”
Go back through your Drains list and put a star next to the items for which absolutely nothing would happen if you stopped doing them. (Why you continue to do them could be the subject of several other posts.)
Write down how it would feel to give up these drains.
Choose 1 Drain to give up and 1 Dream to add.
Figure out a way to celebrate making this change. You’re practicing living a life made up of your choices. It may seem small at first, but it’s a symbol of what’s possible.
While you’re celebrating, a special shout-out goes out to the toughest drains on your list—people. You need not aim to change the people on your list, but rather change your behavior toward them.
There may be people on your list who don’t support you when you’re doing things that are important to you. It’s ok that they don’t support you. Not everyone must support you in everything you do. But it’s not helpful for you to continue to talk about it with them or to try to convince them. You can set a boundary that you understand their point of view, you respect it, but it’s no longer helpful for you to discuss whatever that topic is that brings you pain—and by the way—is going nowhere. How much time could you have back in your life if you weren’t trying to convince others of your worth or the “rightness” of your decisions?
For some of you, you might just be able to check off that triathlon from your bucket list and for others, you could at least fit in more time with the best friends you never get to see.
Whatever dreams you create in your life, it’s thrilling to know that you have the power to make these shifts whenever you’re ready to do so.
The choice is yours.
What's Your Minimum Viable Self-Care Routine?
Among crumpled tissues and throat drop wrappers sits my laptop and my PSA to you. Fighting the urge to put my head back down on the pillow, a foggy head that begs to be horizontal, I tell myself—just one more thing and you can rest. It's a cold. Nothing more, nothing less—so why does it feel like I should throw in the towel on this day, on this week, on this whole thing called self-employment?
The worst part of it is—I did this to myself. Ouch, it hurts writing that. I've given up on my supplements regimen for months. I stayed up until the wee hours all week. I ate too much sugar. I consumed too much news (hello, cortisol!). These things strung together when I was 23 would have been called, "life"—but two decades later, my body is sticking me with a "time out". Hopefully I will learn my lesson this time around.
In order to continue to do what I love—helping my clients and being there for my family—I must be able to take care of this body, which has made its needs very clear.
Yes, there will be times when my energy is high, when I'm in a good groove with running and exercising, eating leafy greens like it's my job—and then there are the times when life happens and I'm lucky if I sneak in a 2 mile run between sessions. For those times, I'm taking a page from my tech colleagues.
Let's define our Minimum Viable Self-Care Routine!
Without it, we are non-functional.
With it, we're not our ideal vision of success—but we're operating, we're in action—and for the love—it's a starting point!
If you know what's worked for you in the past, but have fallen off the wagon, think through ways that you can re-ignite your commitment. Feeling like I do right now (she says, red nose aglow!) is definitely a motivator to do something different, but knowing myself, I'm also clear I must sweeten the deal.
My Minimum Viable Self-Care Routine will include simple things I know work for me:
1) Mostly clean, always gluten-free eating
2) Running 2-3 times a week
3) Daily supplements
4) 8-9 hours of sleep
Plus, things that can make me excited again about re-committing:
1) Trying out a new fun exercise class like kickboxing (who's in?)
2) A new evening wind-down routine that acknowledges all I've accomplished that day and is a reminder that I can let go (The sleep struggle is real no matter how articulate Arianna Huffington is on the topic!)
Because this is my MVSCR (who doesn't need another easy to remember acronym?), I am NOT going from head cold to 6 days a week at the gym or Whole 30. While I know I'm drawn to quick fix, dramatic life overhauls—I also know they don't work for me. I find that sometimes getting back to basics and committing to the no-brainer stuff clears the way for the possibility of bigger changes down the line. So I will take these baby steps to get back on track, but first—it's all about that nap!
