Pick a Direction. Now Go!

Doug likes to tell the story of his high school graduation gift from his parents: a suitcase. What better message to send to an 18-year-old than "time for you to leave now"? I don't remember my gift, but I distinctly remember crying all the way to Iowa City as my mother smiled encouragingly, reminding me that I would soon be a Hawkeye and my homesickness would fade in no time.

Our parents knew what they were doing. Doug eventually left the homestead, and my homesickness evaporated within days.

Alex designed her dress. Age 12.

We now seem to be at that point on the parenting spectrum. Alex the Eldest graduated from college last May and moved to Denver to make a splash in the world of journalism. She had crushed it in college, after all. Fast forward eight months. Writing jobs are drying up. The food industry pays well. Living is expensive. Daughter is in a funk. Adulting sucks! And just when we were ready to suggest she consider going back to school, Alex declares herself an entrepreneur! With her creativity and tactile proclivities, she's starting a fashion design business for the niche market of drag queens. Now she wonders about taking some business classes. At one time she would've scoffed at that ludicrous idea.

On the other hand, Cole the Youngest is in his last semester of high school, and he's suddenly panicking about choosing the right career path. (It was so much easier when he knew he was going to be Spiderman or a Major League Soccer player!) Does he really want to pursue Exercise Science? What about art? Art design maybe? Or maybe he should reconsider history? What career will ensure him of a penthouse like Justin Timberlake in Friends with Benefits? And a girlfriend like Mila Kunis?

A strong Spidey sense. Age 4.

Important life questions. For sure. So, what's a parent to do?

Doug takes the practical approach: Make sure you find a job that pays.

My approach is a bit less practical: Make sure you find a career that makes you happy.

We're both correct, of course. But there's another element that can be a difficult concept to grasp: make sure you're contributing. It sounds almost formulaic, but it doesn't mean much unless it's fused with a bit of passion and sincere empathy. This doesn't mean you need to solve world poverty, although, that would be nice. It also doesn't mean you need to pull down six figures, although, that would be nice as well. It simply means you made a positive difference in someone's life.

I just finished reading a great book called Britt-Marie Was Here by Fredrik Backman. He's an amazing author with a gift for depicting the most ordinary, yet compelling characters. There's a very profound point in the story when Britt-Marie begins to understand her purpose. The chapter begins with this:

"At a certain age almost all the questions a person asks him or herself are really just about one thing: how should you live your life?"

Britt-Marie is 63-years-old, by the way. As parents, we try to instruct our kids every step of the way when we, ourselves, are also trying to figure it all out. We've made mistakes, and we learned. We made more mistakes, and we learned. We'll make more mistakes, and I hope we will learn. But all throughout, we found many moments of happiness – especially when we realized we were making a difference.

So, kids... pick a direction and go. We'll try not hover. And when you fall down, we'll know you're on your way to great things.

Ready for this?

It seems we're always getting ready for something, aren't we? But really, I'm beginning to think, we're only really getting ready for one thing.

Alex's graduation.

Or, to be fair, our children's graduation.

I had always assumed I would be an organized mother. The perfect mother, making wholesome snacks, videotaping concerts, taking award-winning soccer photos. That isn't quite what happened with a penchant for Doritos, the loss of two video cams, and a lower-than-average aptitude for photography.

But I did have a plan.

By the time the kids graduated, I would have all commemorative items in place. Photos, awards, and trinkets would all be displayed in clever, eye-catching scrapbooks. But time and talent trumped me. I've only ever started one scrapbook containing approximately three completed pages of a St. Louis trip. However. I have saved lots of papers and clippings. Lots and lots of papers and clippings. And photos. We have photos!

Everyone always tells you things like "enjoy the journey." I typically nod my head, thinking, yeah, kinda busy. Now my daughter will be gone in a few short months. And I have heartburn. Or maybe it's heartache. But I wonder, was I really kinda busy? Or too busy...which is what I meant.

For a person who is always making lists and giving herself deadlines, going through the history of my daughter's first eighteen years of life has been the most remarkable use of my time. Hours evaporated while sifting through papers and revisiting family memories. As I fumbled my way through a scrapbook for the graduation party, I had an important epiphany–one I'm almost embarrassed to confess. Most parents probably already know this. But it's very real to me right now. As my daughter verges on creating an ambitious new life for herself, my sense of purpose has become abundantly clear. No matter how many community service hours you spend, or how many work hours you toil, nothing compares with the amount of time you've done preparing your kids for their independence.

In just a few short weeks comes the big day of graduation. We're still preparing for the party, the commencement–all that jazz. I'm thankful for this time of preparation. I am. Because I'm truly enjoying the last trip of this particular journey. And I might not be ready when the day comes to say goodbye. But I know my daughter will be.

She's been waiting to graduate for awhile now...

A Dead End? No Way!

Most recently a bridge was removed from our road. (We don’t exactly own it, nor have they named it after us yet. But I feel a claim to the gravelly path since we are the only residence on the ¾ mile stretch.) Now we live on a…dead end. The sign humors me every time I make the corner to go home, especially after a long day at work. There’s nothing metaphorical running through my mind! Really!

Actually, I have been thinking how quickly I blinked and found myself at the age of 44. Didn’t I just turn 25 a few years ago? 31? Then I wonder, have I achieved everything I set out to achieve? If my 25 year-old self would look at me now, I’d probably say, "Pretty much." Yet, there has been a certain restlessness–a certain lingering feeling, making me wonder if there was more that I should be doing. 

So I got some ideas!

Working hard. Learning the ropes. Obviously, all important in the making of a career. Purpose has almost always consumed me. And now that my kids no longer need their steaks cut into bite-size pieces (most of the time), the question of purpose really hovered over my cup of morning tea. Recently, I was inspired into action after reading two books: When Everything Changed by Gail Collins and Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg.  Ms. Collins gave me an education on the Women's Movement and Sheryl Sandberg reminded me of all the gender challenges I've faced in my career. Together, Sandberg and Collins convinced me to start a mentoring program at work. And after conversations with some other high-performing women at the Shelby County State Bank, we all decided to carry on the dialogue in formal framework–to encourage each other, to boost confidence, and to help each other in our careers. While we've only just begun a program, our roundtable talks are being received with great fervor. And just as Ben Stiller's enthusiasm soared when his Museum came alive in Night of the Museum, I'm feeling a sort of second-wind in my career as well.

Without trying to sound to cliche, I really do think God works in mysterious ways. I read a book which inspired me to laugh at the newly posted "Dead End" sign on our road. I guess when a bridge closes up, you just turn around and take the long way around. Sometimes, the scenery isn't only nicer–it's a better route. 

Just to give you a taste of Lean In and the conversations we've started at our place at work, see Sheryl Sandberg's Ted Talk here. It's fabulous.