The Resume (and Job Search) Queen: The Heart of the Matter

Burnout City

2007-12-02T09:31:00.000-05:00

I was talking this past week with another career coach about how companies are demanding more and more and more from employees. And are getting it.

A client I'll call Bob who wants to leave his current job talks of how his manager expressed extreme disappointment that Bob would not make himself available via computer on Thanksgiving Day for software developers at work in China, if they should need him. Bob was not having family in from out of town but claimed plans that he couldn't break, because he was astounded his manager thought he'd readily be available on a holiday. Bob was normally available many weekends during the year on top of his usual 55+ hours a week, but this was a holiday and everyone was talking about their plans. His manager didn't stop there: "So I assume you'll make yourself available, then, the rest of the weekend?" Bob declined and is working even harder to find a new job. He says, "Whatever happened to boundaries around a big holiday?" and "They can't pay me enough to live like that."

Then there's the 25-point list of desired tech skills that we see in software development job postings. The company is asking for things that rarely go together: either the client hasn't lived long enough yet, or the shifts in their (very normal) career have precluded that they learn all 25 things on that list. Clients ask, "How can these companies find anyone who has all this stuff?" Depending on the local job market, they can.

Why do companies, especially software companies, do this? Well, what they've done is merged two or three jobs into one. This saves a huge amount of money, and it means that through extreme multitasking, the person can get many things done. These things may not get done very well, and the worker may not find it very satisfying, but hey, that person will be able to turn out something. For one salary.

There's definitely a push-push-push of professionals today at a level that was once reserved for their very highly-paid executives. Some companies and industries will say "That's how we work in this industry." But it's all by the seat of the pants and it's panic-driven. It's what Stephen Covey would call Quadrant I thinking, which is reactive, it's operating in response to crisis, it's putting out fires. It leads to burnout and exhaustion. There's little investing in their people for future returns, which Covey would call Quadrant II, the kind of thinking and managing that's proactive, re-creative, and into planting seeds for the future. Too few companies in any industry in the US are in Quadrant II. Shareholder demands create a "this quarter" mentality.

Maybe we can try something new: No work after hours. This might mean that people can actually get away from their work for possibly half of their waking hours (based on a typical six hours of sleep that many get today), so that their brains get a rest and can be sharper when they actually do sit down to work. That would still allow for a nine-hour day at work.

Pulling people away from their families over and over again creates Burnout City: downright poor management of time and people. It hurts professionals and their families, who feel caught and exhausted and never quite dis-engaged from their work. And companies lose good people.

Over time, no one really wins.

It's Only a Business Decision

2007-10-21T08:49:00.000-04:00

Sometimes people aren't comfortable doing a job search when they're gainfully employed and their job is "OK". Not great, but "OK". They feel they are being unfaithful to seek out or to consider another opportunity. Thus they put it off, even if the handwriting is on the wall, even if the layoff e-mail has gone out.

OK, I'm supposed to say that's admirable. But today, I don't say that. I say "That person is being reactive and is not managing his/her career". Today, I say "Why aren't you advocating for yourself?" What are they waiting for -- someone to painlessly hand them a new job?

Instead, they, you, need to be thinking ahead, for yourself, all the time. In some parts of our country, that's essential to career health.

So yes, I'm suggesting you be unfaithful, if you want to use that term. I'm suggesting you say you have that dentist appointment when you really have an interview. I'm urging you to network with people all the time, even occasionally on your company's time, because when else can you do this? When done judiciously, this is necessary sneaking around. And you have to do it in order to protect your best interests.

Maybe my own experience colors my view: Almost 30 years ago, my dad put in for a transfer with his company (Sears) from New York to Florida. He'd been there over 20 years, and was unabashedly loyal: he was even on the company's regional sports teams, and our home had only Sears products. The company culture for years had been "we'll take care of you". Except, that culture was changing in the late 1970s. Suddenly everything was "Don't take it personally, it's only a business decision". So they denied the transfer and he was stunned, heartbroken. How could this happen after all he had done for them?

And I've seen so many clients today in the same position. It's all too rare to have someone approach me to say "I've got to get out of there while things are still good, because I'm seeing the signs that they won't stay good, for me at least." That's what more people need to see, and need to say.

Why should you put loyalty second to your career? Because that's how you put yourself -- and your family -- first. You need to advocate for yourself in today's career. Your town won't do it for you. Your neighbors, your Aunt Lucy, and last of all, your current company won't do that for you.

The day a company says, "John, we're thinking of laying you off, what do you think?" is the day I'll change my mind.

For all good (and some dumb) reasons, companies have to reorganize, reassign, and reduce. They call these business decisions. Because they are.

In the end, by taking control of your career, you are making a business decision for you and your family, your future. Your career funds your life. It's what's necessary for you and you must advocate for yourself.

They company or organization will find someone to fill your position, and they'll go on just fine.

You have to make sure the same thing happens for you. And only you can do that.

Devastation

2007-09-01T10:30:00.000-04:00

You call in tears, or close to it: The Perfect Job went to someone else. After all this time, after all the networking, after all the networking group meetings, after all the mental reframing and resume re-writing and interview practice, after all the interviews, after all the thank-you notes, after canceling the sailing trip so you'd save the money, after the family talks about tapping the 401Ks, after all your hoping and daring not to think that you'd get this job for fear of jinxing it, you didn't get it.

You use the word devastated. As in, I am devastated. You ask, How could they not pick me? It was perfect for me. How could they? And then: what do you have to do these days to get them to see how good you are?

I could tell you to buck up and put this behind you and remind you about those other prospects and those other interviews, and how I understand because I've been there, too, but I will save that talk for another time. For now, I listen. I groan with you, for you. I say useless things like "I feel so bad that it worked out this way, with all that you have to offer." I let you vent and vent, and let you talk about your family beginning to doubt you, about how you are beginning to doubt you.

Then, when you pause, I gently interrupt to tell you that I don't doubt you, that you have the same skills and successes and talents to offer that you did before you got their rejection e-mail (yes, that's how they do it now). You listen but I know your pain isn't letting you take it in.

You're human: you want to avoid pain. But there is no avoiding this. A wise woman once told me, There is no way around pain, there's only through it. I hated the comment at the time, but later realized she was right. The only way to deal with it is to look it in its face and say OK, here you are. Because then, and only then, it will finally go away. Trying to avoid it only makes it a bigger presence in your life.

So right now, your pain is preventing you from really hearing good things about yourself. But after that lump in your throat goes away (it will) and you grudgingly decide, Well, I have no choice, I'd better move on from here, I am betting you cast your line about and remember my words. And I am hoping the words serve as the first little breeze that starts to refill your sails and which gets you to realize, and say, I'll be OK after all.

The Grass is All the Same Green

2007-08-19T08:47:00.000-04:00

When I probe a client for the reasons they want to leave their current job, I sometimes hear, "I want to leave because things have changed there... they no longer treat people like they did years ago." And: "They are cutting back on our benefits." And: "They're outsourcing so much work to people in other countries now, my team's jobs might be next...." Mid-level managers as well as executives bring up these issues.

Then I ask a few more questions. "Do your friends in the field tell you what's happening in their companies? How similar or different is it there?" The client admits their friends are saying similar things, but that it's not as bad at these other companies.

To which I say, "yet". That's because these changes are ubiquitous. Companies are cutting benefits such as pensions; even municipalities (e.g., Worcester, Mass.) are dropping health care for those employees 65 and over, essentially saying that Medicare will have to take care of them. Competition and mere survival is driving the changes.

The temptation to escape such change is totally understandable. Who wants to worry about losing good benefits or losing a job? So, the thinking goes, let me leave this place and go somewhere where change is further away.

Except eventually it will catch up to you, at the new place or the one after that.

So what to do? Continue to learn new skills, go to seminars, keep your network alive between job hunts, adapt, stay ahead of the wave of change. Change will always be licking at your heels so don't try to flee from it. Instead, stay in control of you, which is truly the only thing you can control. Keep yourself marketable. And if you don't want to, then consider retiring or changing your expenses picture so that you don't need to work.

So when should you leave if it's not for the above reasons? Here are a few things to look for: If you're getting bored on the job, if you feel like you're coasting on the job, if there's little new challenge, if the company stops investing in or developing its people, if the company is losing sale after sale and isn't changing things to fix the situation, if your company or organization is putting out less-than-cutting-edge products or services.

Those are the real signals, the early warning signs that you should leave, if you want to continue your career. And these warnings usually appear well before the ones that tell you things aren't the same.

Yes, I hate to tell you, things have changed. They won't be the way they used to be, either where you are now or on your next job. They never will be again.

Reclaiming Your Central Vision

2007-07-21T15:23:00.000-04:00

A teacher friend who specializes in working with children with learning disabilities wrote to describe a recent seminar she'd attended. Her excitement was palpable: at the seminar, she learned that children under stress don't see the same way "normal" kids see; they tend to see off to the sides in a way that prepares them for "flight or fight". So they miss whatever is straight ahead of them, such as the printed page. And thus, their learning suffers. Educators who know about this new research can better help such students overcome this problem.

In many ways, I think, the job search does the same thing to adults. This is less of a phenomenon brought about by vision than by emotion. In other words, the stress of job hunting can cause people to not see what's right in front of them, and to be distracted by things off to the side.

So, for example, instead of "seeing" that networking would get them closer to 80% of the available openings, candidates spend almost all of their time replying to posted jobs, which represent only about 20% of available openings "because then I feel like I've done something", as one candidate recently told me. An activity that's small and concrete right now (answering ads) feels better right now than a more productive activity (networking) that's amorphous and longer-term. Sigh. And I scratch my head, mystified.

In our feelings-based, short-term oriented culture, it's today that matters. It's as if the job hunter says "I don't care that my brain knows that the job search is a marathon, my gut tells me to sprint because at least for a little while I'll feel like I'm getting somewhere". So they look off to the side.

I say, Try to look at how you spend your time during the search as Mr. Spock would: totally logically. Reclaim your ability to look front and center at what's really important here. In this aspect of the search, that reclaiming of your central vision is useful, very useful. Even vital, for your financial and emotional health. Go against the tide of feeling-good-for-now, look front and center, and you will land sooner. And oh, how good that will feel.

When Hope Gets in the Way, or, It's OK to Be Selfish

2007-06-18T18:22:00.000-04:00

Of course, I'm a big fan of hope. It's what keeps us going as humans, even in our darkest hours.

But sometimes hope gets in the way. Such as when you hope your current employer changes their salary structure. And you hope your manager stops micromanaging you. And you hope the company would just be more ethical, or more innovative, or more expansive, or more serious about your career development.

When you realize that none of those Big Things About the Company is going to change, you have a choice: either continue to hope they change, or leave. Now this is often where clients say "But I've never been a quitter; I don't want to leave the company in case things really do change."

Quitter?! I'd argue you are already giving up if you're sticking it out waiting with hope that things there will change -- and in doing so you've given the company more credit than you've given yourself.

Yes, companies can change course, but my experience is that too often clients would rather hope than see the reality, and would rather stick it out than launch a job search. Meanwhile, what they're becoming blind to as they are hoping are the changes in their field that demand they pay better attention to their own career. Too many New Englanders hoped that Digital (DEC) would turn it around, and while hoping, their own skills began to stagnate. Don't let this happen to you.

So I say "Sure, hope", but make it more about yourself and what you want for you and your family. It's OK to be selfish in that way. In your one life, who will take care of you if you don't?

Water on Stone

2007-05-07T06:35:00.000-04:00

A former client called me to work on a new job search, so I went to her file to review her resume, which we need to update. I was caught by surprise when I saw the resume I'd done for her in 2004: it looked very different than the resumes I do now.

Yet in no way did I consciously say "I'm going to change resumes now", any time in the three years since then.

There were no moments at which I said "OK, here's something different".

Instead, I just continually try things in response to what I hear from hiring managers, recruiters, interviewers, and HR. After all, they're the ones with the jobs. And their work keeps changing, their companies or organizations keep changing, their customers or clients keep changing, the jobs they create keep changing. And it's usually in the same way: a very little at a time. So subtle, at times, that you don't notice it.

Like the earth shifting on its axis ever so slightly each day, we don't notice the daily change until we've experienced it for a while: until it's still light at 6pm when just a few weeks ago, it was dark. It's a good model for the job market: there are constant shifts and tweaks and slight changes, until we look up and say, "Wow, this is different!" and "Whoa, who changed things?"

We all did. And we all do: a little at a time. Until it adds up, and it rocks us.

A Coach's Pain

2007-05-01T08:44:00.000-04:00

Despite all its joys, sometimes this profession is a painful one. If I can presume to speak for others in the career choice and job search coaching field, I would say we can't help but feel pain for our clients and also absorb some of their pain. In fact, there are professional seminars that help coaches "take care of ourselves", and these are well-attended.

Yet the worst pain is when we see clients making their searches harder than they need to be. There are many varieties of this, sad to say, but the biggest one is that people can't -- or won't -- change.

The engineer who won't see that his field is shrinking and salaries are dropping, and holds out for one of the few remaining jobs, against fierce competition that always seems to get there before him. The sales manager who won't shorten her resume and declines to add her field's current key words. The tech support manager who pursues the corporate ladder his father climbed instead of the lattice that it is today which sometimes means lateral moves in order to grow.

Now we are not therapists, but qualified career coaches do have enough training that we can see when there are deeper issues at work. So I ask clients questions they don't expect: "Do you want to find a job/better job?", because maybe they really don't. And, "What's in it for you to use this method that isn't working? What does it give you?", because maybe there are benefits in their approach that I'm not seeing.

This is a pivotal point for such a client: They will either see the need to change or they will dig in harder. Most decide to "try something new", however small. And that little step of change opens them up to other steps, and success comes more quickly.

But sometimes the person just can't do it, just can't try a change. Despite their pain they cling to what used to work even if it clearly is not working now. They stall, and their job search stagnates. They are running in place but won't stop. That's where the pain for me really comes in: with only so much time in the day, I have to shift away from someone who needs me yet who won't do what's necessary for today's job market. When a career coach is working harder than a client, it's time to divert priceless energy to the many clients who will change and try new things and succeed.

Change is the only constant. The pain of making the necessary changes is only temporary, like the shot you get before the dentist does tough dental work on you. In the same way, that transitory pain hurts far less than the pain of not changing one's career approach, which is persistent and draining.

Now if I could only put that analogy in a pill, I'd give it to every job seeker I could find. It would take away their pain, and mine.

Certain Gifts

2007-02-25T09:48:00.000-05:00

The technical marketing manager came to the weekly job search networking group late, unusual for him but a common occurence with members having interviews, so I assumed that's what it was and didn't think much of it.

Later, during a break between networking activities, he pulled me aside to apologize. Almost everyone in the group, which changes somewhat with every meeting, is incredibly polite this way. Being without a job is humbling in many ways. "I'm so sorry I came in late", he began. "But I thought saving a dog's life was a valid reason for being late!", he said, breaking into a proud grin.

Saved a dog's life? "Yes, our neighbor's dog ran out on the ice in a nearby pond, and she fell through. I thought she might be able to get out, but after three attempts, I saw she couldn't. I saw her, so I carefully inched my way out on the ice and grabbed her." On that cold morning, the dog certainly would have died if he hadn't seen her out there struggling.

It's funny how things work: if he'd been working, he never would have seen her and she would have died, and no one would have found her, and her family would have been in agony, putting up posters and calling the pound.

To save the life of a dog, a family member. In the grand scheme of things, if there is such a design, could this be the reason for his layoff? Or the reason he decided to attend the networking group that morning, which he wouldn't have done had he not been laid off?

Sometimes even painful things are gifts.

Energy Concerns

2007-01-25T15:03:00.000-05:00

"I hate this process", the client I'll call "Kim" said, pausing after each word for emphasis, voice strained with pain. She repeated it, with even more vehemence: "I HATE looking for a job", and, "It only makes me feel lousy." And "Why does it have to be so hard?"

I had no answers. She was venting, and listening is part of what I do because it helps. Perhaps my listening would help her blow of some of this froth of anger, this negative energy. It IS hard, even for someone as bright and talented as Kim.

And therein lies the nature of the process: energy. And pain. And in the end, at some mystery date that feels like it will never arrive, joy.

This is about the energy part. If Kim keeps gathering her energy into her anger and frustration, it will keep that anger and frustration alive. Like a flame with just enough air and fuel, it will continue to burn. And while doing so, will take energy away from other, better, and more productive things, like making that cup-of-coffee appointment with a person who's a possible link to a new job. The energy is better spent on such activities because 5 minutes of face time is more powerful than an hour on the phone.

In other words, put the energy where it should be: in effective search activities. No matter how hard it is, you have to do this. No matter how much work it is, you have to do it. Because to do otherwise -- meaning, to do nothing, or to avoid the necessary activities, or to sputter and fume at the process -- will put your energy elsewhere.

And seeing as how you have only so much energy, save it for what's going to help you.

So smother that flame of frustration. When you find yourself thinking, "What's the use?", cut short that thought, and replace it with "I have to do this. It's the only way." Take it on faith -- yours, or mine if you'd like -- that you WILL land a job, that it IS hard work to get it, that there's NO way around the pain except to march straight through it.

And when it's over, I'll celebrate with you.

It's Not Always About You

2007-01-20T17:31:00.000-05:00

Recently, I saw a cartoon that showed a cat and dog looking out the window as their human father was falling out of a tree he'd been pruning. The dog looked anxious and his thought bubble said, "Oh no! He's going to get hurt!". The cat looked anxious and his thought bubble said, "Oh no! I don't know how to use the can opener!"

Like that cat, the anxious job seeker has a distorted filter. Anxiety makes it all about you, when it's really not. Once anxiety sets in, it skews time, it warps reality, it alters accurate perception. Example: a hiring company doesn't notify Anxious Angela within the two weeks promised at the end of her last interview with them. Angela is sure it means she hasn't landed the job. After all, they said two weeks, didn't they? And she's certain it was that one thing she said and they didn't like it, or maybe the suit she wore wasn't right. She begins to think "That went well, but now I wonder if I had the right impression, and maybe I can't read people well after all, and if I don't get that job, who else would hire me?" Men and women job seekers do the same thing: they think is has to do with them.

In my 20+ years in this field, I've seen perhaps three companies or organizations actually make a hiring decision by the original target date, and actually notify finalists or their selected candidate in the time span they intended. And it has nothing to do with the candidates. It has everything to do with what happens at the company: the hiring manager has a sick child at home and can't make the meeting, or a sudden crisis saps all available time of the decision makers, or an unexpected resignation of another employee puts everything else on hold.

Over the holidays, I met a senior HR exec from a large company along 495. I asked her why HR departments sometimes don't let the finalists know if they landed the job, leaving them hanging. It seems downright rude, and I told her pretty much that's how it looks. She was pained and said "Yes, it's awful. But sometimes it's out of our control. It's actually happened to us that as the search is almost finished, we'll get a missive from Corporate that dictates that we need to reclassify the very job we're trying to fill. We then don't know if we can go ahead and fill it, and we have four finalists waiting to hear from us. We don't have the staff to let people know what's going on while we work to get the questions with corporate resolved."

So what's a candidate to do? The absolute best thing is to have so much activity going -- so many companies looking at your resume, several interviews scheduled, lots of networking activity -- that such a delay from one employer is a minor glitch.

Job hunters who do that can weather the disappointments in a search. But job hunters who don't, and who put all their efforts into one employer, will only worry that they, too, don't know how to use a can opener.

Don't Stop Being Connected

2006-10-15T15:26:00.000-04:00

Ah, another painful e-mail: "I've landed a job, so could you take me off the networking group mailing list?", asked the now-employed member.

Why "painful"? Certainly I'm thrilled he landed his new job! But the pain I'm feeling is, "Here's another person who's going to stop networking while he's employed, and only do it again when he's laid off again." Plus, by being off the mailing list, he'll have no clear idea about how it is out there, no warnings that layoffs are on the upswing or downswing, or that hiring is increasing or decreasing in his field. He's choosing to remain insulated from it all, hidden from it, on this next job. He thinks he'll be avoiding the pain he so recently left behind. Plus, who wants all that e-mail, anyway?

These are the people that we see at networking group meetings a few years later (it's never very long given today's corporate layoff culture), who struggle to make new connections, who have to play catch-up on the new job search methods. And because they're rusty, they'll come across as desperate.

So do yourself a favor: stay in the loop once you get that next job. Go to professional association meetings in your field, aim to meet with someone new in your field each month, or with someone you want to reconnect with. Take certificate classes and get to know your fellow students, your instructors. Attend seminars and give out, and collect, plenty of business cards. Stay on the list serves.

In short, make it so easy for yourself that after the next layoff, all you have to do is send out an e-mail and you've lined up a dozen lunch meetings with people who are delighted to be seeing you.

The Pain is Worth It

2006-09-15T12:03:00.000-04:00

This summer I took up yoga. Wanting more activity beyond walking, and having tried yoga before, I decided to try a new yoga class.

I loved it. And I hated it. During the first class, I wept almost the whole time, which made me feel foolish with all those lithe, experienced yoga-ettes in the room. More about that in a minute.

Now I'm not a jock, so doing exercise, especially exercise that demands that you s-l-o-w d-o-w-n and notice every subtle thing, is really tough for me. And movement that requires silence is maddening for this very verbal person. But after the third or fourth class, I found my body responding, as if it had truly learned some of the movements and was remembering them. I noticed after each class I was "quietly sore" but when the soreness faded, it seemed to leave behind a new strength. I have a long way to go before I feel really comfortable doing yoga, but I'm actually getting there. The pain has been worth it.

Why the tears? (My teacher tells me this is a very common thing.) Because at first it felt so unnatural. Because I felt like a klutz. Because the teacher was so kind and taught me from the first minute that this is not a competition, and her kindness touched me. Because some yoga poses "open" areas of tension within the body, releasing it with great relief. But it was mostly because I couldn't be an expert the first time I did it.

Just like yoga is tough for someone like me, a job search is tough for many others. Very tough. The rules are different than ever before, for almost every job search. You feel like a klutz, like you'll never "get it", like something far less than an expert.

But think of it like the kind of scale you see on lawyers' logos: on one side, there's the the pain of being without a job or in a job you don't like. On the other side, there's the pain of doing something new, like networking outside your comfort zone.

Which is worse?

If you're like most job candidates, the worse of the two is the pain of being without a job/being in a job you hate. So push yourself into trying something new in your search, because it may very well lead to your next job, thus shortening your search and its attendant agony. So a little temporary pain is worth it.

Oh, and about the yoga: I'm sticking with it and miss it when I go a few days without doing it. I no longer need to feel like an expert at this very new thing: bumbling around is something I've accepted as necessary. That realization alone has taught me much.

Mr. Decker's Boat

2006-09-15T11:55:00.000-04:00

Mr. Decker was my high school driver education teacher. He was in his late 50s, tall and stocky, an unsmiling man with a completely bald head, a mean-looking Mr. Clean without the earring. He said little to those of us who followed the rules, and his glare told the jokers they wouldn't get far with him, and they didn't. He seemed to garner little joy from his work, instead going about it like it was a duty. It seemed to my teenage mind that although he was good at what he did, he was just putting in his time.

So imagine our shock when somehow along the way we heard about the sailboat Mr. Decker was building. When he talked about it at the end of the semester, his face softened. His eyes were on a blue horizon in his mind's eye. He described how for years he'd been making each part by hand, each part out of wood. It was going to be so big, he said, that he would have to have it towed by a tractor trailer truck to the water. "One day, when I retire", he said, "I'll finally take my wife on the sailing trip I've been promising her. We're going to live on the boat and sail anywhere we want." In the meantime, he'd put up with the misery of teenagers hitting the brake pedal too hard.

About 5 years later, I saw in the local paper that Mr. Decker, indeed, had finished his boat. It was so big that phone lines crossing the street had to be temporarily disconnected so that it could pass by. It was beautiful and in the picture, Mr. Decker was wearing a big smile that we never saw back in high school.

He was finally taking his wife for that sail. They would now have the years of joy that he'd been waiting for. I was happy that he could finally do it.

Except within a year and a half, Mr. Decker was dead. A heart attack had ended his all-too-brief sailing days.

I've often thought of Mr. Decker over the years, and how he postponed his joy for when he retired, then had such a short time to enjoy it. I think of him when I work with a client who's willing to work "just a few years longer" on a job he hates, or the friend who says, about a career that's eating his heart out, "I have only 10 more years until I'm vested, so I'll stick it out." I challenge them with "Shouldn't you have joy each day? Why are you putting it off?"

It must have been wonderful for Mr. Decker to be out on the open seas after being cramped in a car every day for all those years. But I can't help but wonder that maybe if he'd have worked in another job, one that didn't make him unhappy every day, the pain would not have taken its toll and he'd have been able to enjoy that boat sooner and for a lot longer.

Mr. Decker had a year and a half on his boat, but he probably expected to have a lot more.

How much time time do you have?

Catastrophe is Not Right Around the Corner

2006-08-31T07:14:00.000-04:00

Said a client, "If I don't have a job by Labor Day, I'm going to lose my house!"

Someone who called our office said, "I need to get a good job in some field yesterday to save my mortgage and my marriage!"

"My wife will leave me if I'm not working soon!" said a third person.

Whoa! OK, everyone, calm down. If your thinking is like any of these, it's what psychologists call "catastrophic thinking". It's when anxiety and panic take over. In the job search, people take all the anxiety they feel about their search -- interviews, no response from employers to their resume, networking outside their immediate circle -- and they add it to the other things going on in their lives, until they are running on pure emotion.

If you find yourself feeling this kind of panic, short-circuit it with logic. First, slow things down. Take a deep breath and parse things out: what options do you really have (come on, be honest, you can tap your savings if you need to), and what steps to take. Write them down if you want. Then take those steps.

There's a saying I have: There are no cat skeletons in trees. Why is that? Because the cats eventually come down. Well, it's the same with landing your next job: It will happen. It will. Saying that to yourself involves the second thing you can do to counter your anxiety and catastrophic thinking, and that is to have faith. Faith in yourself, in the bigger picture that it will all work out.

Oh, and here's some statistical solace to support that faith: in the 20 years I've been doing this work, not one person who feared losing his/her home actually had it happen to them. You won't either.

The Anatomical Aspect of Job Search

2006-08-31T06:57:00.000-04:00

The old saying, "It's not what you say, it's how you say it" is vitally true about the job search. In the US today, in a culture that's heavily colored by feelings and short attention spans, the search is really a series of communications. So the more cerebral job seeker has to be very concerned about the package as well as what goes in it. In other words, like it or not, they have to get out of their heads and into their heart, their gut.

If you're in job search, what this means is you, indeed, have to be able to answer questions with good content. So if you're all heart or all gut, you're in trouble. But if you're all brain, you also must pay attention to things like your energy level, your voice, and other less intellectual aspects of your presentation.

Why is this important? Well, the content will make your case for any employer questions about "Can she do the job?" But the excitement you show about your work and your career will answer questions around "Does she want to do the job?" and "Does she fit here?"

So keep all three vital parts in mind so that you can do an "anatomically balanced" job search.