“Many people feel they are powerless to do anything effective with their lives. It takes courage to break out of the settled mould, but most find conformity more comfortable. This is why the opposite of courage in our society is not cowardice, its conformity.” – Rollo May
I was nearly fifty when I stepped out of my comfort zone for the first time. I had battled with internal questioning and second-guessing of my chosen career path for a while, but had never acted on it, because I was actually doing reasonably well. My performance reviews were always positive, I had good student results and I thought I enjoyed my work. But there was this nagging feeling that perhaps I wasn’t being honest with myself. “What could I have achieved and offered this world, if I had stepped out of my comfort zone sooner?” is a question I have since asked myself many times.
Deep down, I always knew that something was not right. Unlike so many of my colleagues, I was never satisfied simply to teach and create new knowledge through research, in the same way everyone else was doing it. I was drawn to doing things in novel and different ways. I wanted to enable real transformation in my students and introduce original ideas into my field. My classes, where possible, were unconventional and my research, a new approach, or a fusion of ideas nowhere seen before. My innovative behaviour also extended to other areas of my job. As a senior academic and leader, I always encouraged my team to go that extra mile to stand out, and together we introduced numerous new courses, subjects and working practices; many times, taking the lead with others to follow. My intentions were always aimed at getting better results and making positive change happen.
Even though I have many accomplishments to show for my time in academia, my unwillingness to do things in the tried and tested ‘normal’ way, caused me to repeatedly run into walls and occasionally landed me in trouble. And every time, the little voice inside my head got a little louder. The environment I was working in, was not ready for my ideas. I could not seem to break through. The resistance I faced from every corner, would eventually push me to leave my academic career and pursue other avenues for innovation. Unfortunately, at the time, I did not realise what was happening inside of me. Rollo May in his book “Man’s Search for Himself”, explains that this lack of awareness about our own internal processes is not that strange, since it is often experienced by people. Most people do not take the time to reflect on what they really think and feel or why they have chosen a particular career. In his words: “Many people suffer from the fear of finding oneself alone, and so they don’t find themselves at all.”
Holding on to my academic job even though the environment was a bad fit, I continued to do what was expected of me in the best way possible. Off course, every job consists of things we don’t like, but in my case, I didn’t really enjoy most of the things I had to do. For example, due to my introversion I was never comfortable putting myself at the centre of attention, but on many occasions, I had to speak in front of large groups of people to teach and present my research. I told myself “I can do this” and did it in the way I imagined it should be done. But, the only time that I was comfortable doing it, and drew great satisfaction from it, was when I could do it in a different way; use a new approach to facilitate learning or present an out-of-the-ordinary topic at a conference. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi talks about a state of consciousness called “flow”. Only when I was doing things that put me in flow, was the experience meaningful and fulfilling. Unfortunately, my environment at the time was quite toxic, with little support and understanding from my superiors. I was constantly fighting an uphill battle and had very little opportunity to be in flow. As a great perseverant I charged ahead. I had simply found a “noble” way to live a false life, adapting to my circumstances instead of listening to my heart.
Over time I began to lose my sense of bravery. As my internal struggle intensified, I became progressively afraid of risks, failure and even success. Looking back, I’ve learned that when you feel unsatisfied, unfulfilled and like you are not living up to your highest potential, you are acutely aware of it. And since we cannot say out loud what we want to say, our bodies take over and say what our lips cannot. Some people become physically or mentally ill. For me, it manifested in a struggle with my weight.
Eventually, after an academic career of 25 years, I was pulled from my comfort zone and I experienced human scorn to its fullest extent. My university went through major changes and everybody was scrambling for survival. In an attempt to avoid further “complications”, my innovative behaviour and my ideas were not being well-received on higher levels, and the need for self-preservation and a fear of being ostracised, resulted in some of my colleagues on the lower levels avoiding me. Work became a place of punishment and cruelty. For my own sanity, I had no choice but to resign and give up the only career I knew. My ‘life’ – which at that stage was equal to my career – suddenly came to a painful stop. I was devastated. My self-image and self-confidence crashed. It would eventually take me years to recover.
But, as I would come to understand, one of the few blessings in life is that when we experience pain, we are forced to look inside ourselves. For as Thomas L. Friedman said: “When you press the pause button on a machine, it stops. But when you press the pause button on human beings, they start. You start to reflect, you start to rethink your assumptions, you start to reimagine what is possible and, most importantly, you start to reconnect.”
The turning point during my search for myself was when, over coffee, a dear friend and former colleague (and now my business partner!) and I contemplated the ancient “Who am I?” question. Like me, she was at the crossroads of her career. Luckily for her, her situation wasn’t forced upon her but was a growth spurt she had triggered herself. Together we embarked on an extraordinary journey of self-discovery which ultimately led to our decision to also share our journeys with other people through the establishment of the LEAP Academy.
I’ve come to understand that having a fulfilling life and career is not a goal to be achieved but a gift to be received – the treasure of true self I already possess. Being fulfilled in life and career doesn’t come from something “out there”. It comes from something “in here”, calling me to be the person I am meant to be.
Accepting this inborn gift of self can sometimes be more demanding than attempting to become someone else. It is not easy to face our demons head on. There are some aspects of our personality that we won’t like. In the end, we need to embrace what we dislike about ourselves as well as what we’re proud of; our liabilities as well as our strengths.
Our highest calling is to grow into our own authentic selfhood, whether or not it conforms to some image of what others think we ought to be. In doing so, we find not only the joy that every human being seeks, but also our path to authentic service in the world. True vocation joins self and service, says Frederick Beuchner, who defines vocation as “the place where your deep gladness meets the world’s deep need.“
As everybody who has discovered this empowering truth, the joy of an authentic life and career is always laced with pain. But the pain that comes from doing the right job well and the pain that tells us we’re on the wrong track are different – and the soul knows the difference. When we’re on the wrong track, the soul feels violated and abused and cries out for change. But when we suffer from doing the right job well, the soul still feels fulfilled, because it knows how to take this kind of suffering and use it to make meaning and extend the heart’s reach.
When we lose track of our true self, we should remember that our lives speak through our actions and reactions, our intuitions and instincts, our feelings and bodily states, perhaps more profoundly than through words. If we learn to read our responses, we will receive the guidance we need to live more authentic lives.
Today, some 30 years later, I find deep joy in the work we do at the LEAP Academy – to share the message that everybody has the right and responsibility to have a fulfilled life and career. It doesn’t come from wilfulness alone. It comes from knowing yourself.
The lesson I learned is this:
- By getting to know and understand the real you, you can accept and love yourself again.
- When you find the answer to the “Who am I?” question, you will be more authentically connected to the people around you and you will be able to serve those in your life more faithfully.
- You have to know yourself to find the perfect place where your unique qualities are welcome, and if you can’t find that place, you can create it yourself. Don’t settle and don’t throw yourself at others who are not receptive and have not invited you or are not ready for you.
I’ve finally found my calling and the place where I am comfortable to be and am free to love myself again for who I am. This is the greatest gift of all. At the LEAP Academy we would love for you to find it too.
References:
- Beuchner, F. (1993). Whistling in the dark: A doubter’s dictionary. San Francisco: HarperCollins.
- Csikszentmihalyi, M. (2008). Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience. New York: Harper Perennial Modern Classics.
- Friedman, T.L. (2016). Thank You for Being Late: An Optimist’s Guide to Thriving in the Age of Accelerations. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
- May, R. (1953). Man’s Search for Himself. New York: W. W. Norton & Company.
