Defining Opportunity

I've heard all sorts of weird things. Things like people who were executives applying to shovel poo at the London Zoo. People who had administrative skills that are trying to work at gas stations. And the media are spinning them as sad and yet funny stories.

It's made me think, though. What is opportunity?

We define ourselves by what we do more than what we say. So who is not to say, unless they see they are terrible at it, what great pooper scoopers some former executives are? Who is to say a typist can't change a tire? Who is it to say that an accountant can't make coffee?

Yes, alright, I get it. People out there in recruitment and HR are flooded with applications. Applications out their ears and noses full of people who may not have the 'exact requirements.' But who is to really say that they don't deserve the opportunity? Who is to really judge a person for applying above or below their means? This is a time when those who seek out with determination should eventually emerge victorious. I would rather have someone ambitious and willing over someone literally slogging through. I'd rather build a team on those wanting to rise to the occasion, or humble themselves for the better of others, than search for a person with 5 years of experience in poo scooping, specifically in the elephant species.

So for me I say hats off to those who have thrown themselves out there. Yes, there requires some caution, some proper letter writing, but at least - at least - you're not giving up.

Your life is what your mind makes.

So I don't get any comments here. I don't know if I have any readers, either. Yet I write anyway. It's good for me to write, as it's continued practice. In my former life I tried to write interesting and informative blogs for my company. Now I try to write interesting and informative blogs for me and maybe a few other people. I was reading that maybe by 2,500 I might get a subscription.

Yesterday I spent quite a bit of time being rejected. It was as if all the people who were wandering around with the decisions all called each other and said something to the effect of, "Let's go after that American girl and decline her application ALL AT ONCE!" It was a humbling experience. One declined me an hour after I put my application in. I tried unpacking boxes, cleaning dishes, and poorly constructing, taking apart, and reconstructing an Ikea bookshelf. Finally, I gave up and took the dog out.

It was then that the phone rang. Both phones, actually. In my irritation I decided not to drag along the mobile as it hadn't rung in days. I come back to blinking messages, neither of which I can fully understand save for, "We'd like to invite you to interview!" After attempting to dial the number three different ways I reached the person who called, and ended my day scheduling an interview (pending any offers of course) for next week.

It's at this point that I wonder why, even though I should be happy that I've short listed again, I'm so mad about the rejections still. I have good Twitter friends, which is odd but there is society for you, who drop all sorts of wonderful advice now and again. One told me, indirectly, a Buddist quote, "Your like is what your mind makes."

I had heard that quote before, actually read it, a long time ago when I worked in a book store. The joy of a post-college, post-move job is that you don't go for the spectacular ones, and I'd always wanted to work in a book store. So I lied saying I was staying for months upon months, and before I knew it I had an apron and all the books I could sneak to the back to read.

There were two managers - a lady and a guy. The lady was a long time employee who really enjoyed her work, the guy a cast off of some wealthy middle eastern man who decided to go back to his country and abandon his family. Every day there was a new story about how he had to sell his things so his mother and sister could eat, to which I wanted to reply, "Why, then, don't you apply to better paying jobs?" But I never did. He was in mourning for his old life and he had to go through it. All I did was listen.

At the time I was going through my religions phase. I had been raised Catholic, but my major was all about the Pagans (something about the Romans not really converting to Christianity straight away), and I had never taken the time with Eastern religions. So I grabbed "The Complete Idiots Guide to Buddhism" and went to the back with my sandwich at lunch time. One of the sections started off with the quote, "Your life is what your mind makes," to which I attempted for the rest of the half hour to make the back store room into a beach. This all was destroyed, of course, when the guy manager came bursting in letting me know my break ended 15 minutes ago and he had to sell his car stereo because his mom was dying of cancer.

I never finished the book, as I moved before then, but it's funny how things come back to you. In the middle of all this lost control I get a tweet reminding me that how I see the world is how the world will see me. My life is what my mind makes. If I embrace the rejection then it opens me more to rejection, rather than the acceptance that those jobs were not the right jobs for me. So I'm working on it. Yes, there will be days I get smacked around a bit, but then it's not the right time nor place for me within those worlds. All I need to do is say thanks and move on. There is a place for me, and that place is a positive one.

The Joy of Rejection.

I'm not a girl who loses much. I'm not. I'm a "winner." So to be put out often, told "no dice," it's tough. It's humbling, but it's tough.

I need to be grateful that I've made a few short lists. It's a word that wraps around my brain everyday, the short list. Through this experience I've made in my head three lists - short, medium, and long. (I toyed with being all Starbucksian and calling them venti, grade, and Steve but I keep forgetting which size is which.) From there, I've given each a definition:

1. Long - As in 'Long Shot.' It's a job that I have relation to, but most likely not. However, you never really know, so I apply. I've punted for maybe 5 of these.

2. Medium - As in psychic. No, not really. But a job I've got a 50/50 chance of hitting the short list for. These are the majority of applications.

3. Short - As in, interview time! And so far, so good. But as I said, "I'm a winner." I'll admit straight up that I wish I was on more of these. I am a person who writes contingency plans for contingency plans.

So far nothing on the short has come back, though I'm actually still in the hold period. It's awful, putting fate in others hands. At the same time, it's been a chance to embrace that bit of Buddha I carry with me - I cannot judge the universe.

It doesn't mean, however, that I don't cry like a baby when the call or email doesn't come. I may not have the power to judge the universe, but on occasion I feel it's perfectly legitimate to wave my fist around at it and yell for a few. Suddenly those crazy homeless you see wandering around the streets screaming away at nobody begins to make sense. Everybody gets angry with the universe, some just have more public ways of showing it.

Every time I've been rejected this month I go and I put a line through the job that passed me over. Then I go and rewrite all the list of jobs still out in the ether, short lists first. It reminds me I need to keep looking, keep applying, and filling the page with opportunity. My own little life cycle of potential jobs, playing out on a sheet of paper. Fill it up, let it go, keep going, and don't look back.

There is a bit of joy in rejection. That feeling that even though I might be standing still I'm progressing forward. And one day the right thing will come, all I have to do is keep engaging. Every application an opportunity, every interview a chance to grow. I will figure it out, figure myself out.

Keep applying.

Influenced today by: Zen@Work