Do something different

"How long is too long to keep trying something that isn't working?"

Apparently, for me, the answer (at least in some instances) is a whole damn year.

Last September, I received an email. In it, a kindhearted, well-meaning recruiter told me they'd decided not to move forward with me as a candidate. Six weeks of interviews, six (or more) conversations, far more than six hours on a ‘homework’ assignment. But, "Nah."

It had been exactly a year since I'd lost my previous full-time job, when the company I worked for closed its doors. For 12 months, I was reviewing job descriptions, tweaking my resume and cover letters, applying, interviewing, and repeating. Or, I was marketing myself as an independent contractor/consultant and vying for part-time/fractional work. I also volunteered with non-profits to keep my skills sharp and connections warm and to maintain a sense of purpose.

My savings were dwindling nervously low.

What I had been doing wasn't working.

I finally decided to do something different.

[Aside to loved ones who nudged me in this direction before I was ready: I see you and thank you for the encouragement and the patience.]

"Different" meant offline instead of online.
Hyper-local instead of international.
Hands-in-gloves instead of hands-on-keyboard.

I put out the word to members of my extended community in our small town: "I am available immediately for handyman work!"

Within 24 hours, I had two paid projects lined up and requests for additional quotes from multiple people. Turns out, almost everyone has a few projects around the house that are just waiting for someone with some extra time, energy, and ingenuity to tend to them.

In a matter of hours, I switched gears from the "knowledge work" (aka, tech) I'd done for 17 years, to woodwork - a job I did when I was 17.

In hindsight, I really needed that shift.

I needed to disrupt the infinite loop of rewriting my resume in an utterly hopeless attempt to convince a robot that it should tell its human to look at my application.

I needed to walk outside in the morning, know the weather without looking at the weather app, co-work with birds, time my work sessions based on breaks in the rain, and build real, tangible things that serve the people I know and love.

Tend your garden

My first job was to build raised garden beds. What a blessing, those beds, as they were to be constructed with local, freshly milled Coastal Redwood [swoon].

I drove to the forest where a friend's son collects wood from neighbors whose trees are felled or fallen. I met his bright orange milling machine and heard its story - a group of friends who all live in the woods chipped in to purchase it together and share its use.

I drove away with a truck bed full of fresh 2"x12" planks of the most beautiful, juicy Redwood I'd ever seen, touched, and smelled. (Child Tim on Christmas morning vibes.)

I was honored - truly - to have the opportunity to work with that particular wood, those specific trees. Every cut was made with care, every reusable scrap saved with reverence. Each day on the job, I reminded myself of the Redwood's specialness, sacredness, and, sadly, increasing scarcity. I held awareness of the significance of having access to this wood and permission to create with it.

Oh yeah, the beds came out great, and now I can proudly say I've made raised beds from scratch.

Soon, green shoots will emerge from the blankets of straw that have kept their soils warm this winter. Flowers and herbs will flourish, as sure as light follows dark. Their petals and leaves will dazzle eyes and garnish plates prayed over by many a grateful being.

I fixed a kitchen drawer that hadn't worked quite right for far too long. I painted someone's doors - creating rich, Aegean portals to welcome them home. I cleaned gutters and sealed a roof that had been leaking around a skylight - just in time for the rainy season. I built another garden bed around a tree whose roots had burst through the walls of its former planter. I even weatherproofed and finished the interior of an additional dwelling unit, which will make a young man's visits home to see his mother even cozier.

Meanwhile, on the internet…

While I was refocusing my energy and attention on a purpose that was available to me (meaningful work for which someone was willing to compensate me), the task from which I had taken my attention experienced its own metamorphosis.

Shortly after the spontaneous launch of Falls Fix-n-Build (Lowe's asks for a business name for Pro accounts), I received outreach from two long-time friends - each of them a founder/CEO. Their companies needed someone with my capabilities. A few weeks later, I was working as a fractional leader, helping their businesses launch new products and programs and getting compensated fairly.

Unwittingly, I stumbled my way to a work balance that fits me well. My time and energy are distributed fluidly between the physical and digital work worlds - sometimes moving atoms, other times pushing pixels.

No single part of my work consumes the majority of my time.

My brain and body get to operate in varied contexts, exercise underused muscles, and develop new skills. And I get to serve myself and others in more and different ways.

There's balance in this equation, which nourishes my soul.

Get out of the way

It’s been a common refrain in the more consciously curious circles I sit within.

Once I GTFO the way, the universe unfolded how it needed to. When I trusted the process, it led me to an arrangement I likely wouldn't have designed through logical, strategic planning or manifested by trying harder.

Catch me on the lookout for future opportunities to do something different, when doing the same thing just ain't it.