Whether it’s called a “reorganization,” a “reclassification” or even a “reassignment,” if it results in a loss of responsibility or a downgrade in title, or someone with a more prestigious title is placed over you, then you know that they really mean is that you’ve been demoted.
A career doesn’t always follow the direction we picture it will. We stay true to ourselves when we take set-backs in stride and continue working toward our goal.
Being demoted hits the ego harder than almost anything else that can happen in our professional lives. It’s the combo burrito of a bad performance review and a pay cut, with a side order of spotlight because everyone knows about it, and for dessert, you get to keep showing up at the office, possibly working for the person who has replaced you.
When an unwelcome job change happens to you, you have three options. Continue reading
The alarm pulls me from sleep. I stumble towards the bathroom, and then the coffeepot. Turn off the porch light, bring in the newspapers. Do my yoga while the laptop boots. Write.
Life has its own rhythms, unpredictable, changing, pushing us in new directions before we can get too comfortable. On stage, our friends, drummer Sergio Belotti and saxophonist Rocco Ventrella
When it’s time for my day job, I move from the laptop in my upstairs reading space to the office off the kitchen and turn on that laptop. Breakfast over email. In the late afternoon, I reverse the process. Shut down the office computer, move back upstairs, more yoga stretches to relax the body. Write and work until Brad tells me dinner is ready. More work-writing. Sleep. Continue reading
One of the hardest things we are ever called to do is to comfort someone who is experiencing tragedy.
When tragedy strikes a loved one, we can bring comfort with the right words and actions.
Generally, we do a much better job of rallying around the bereaved after someone dies than we do supporting someone who has suffered a debilitating and permanent injury.
Secretly we’re thinking, OMG, I’m so glad I’m not you. Better you than me. At the end of this uncomfortable visit I can walk out of here and put your terrible life out of my mind for a while. And if it’s too terrible, I can move on to other friends, I’m not stuck like you.
Sometimes, standing at the side of the hospital bed, we’re tongue-tied. Or, we blurt something out only to recoil in embarrassment for having inserted a foot in our mouth. Even worse, sometimes we speak and blithely go on, happily ignorant of the fact that we have caused more pain. In all of these cases, we have just widened the gulf that now separates us, the unaffected, from the person whose not-so-bad-up-to-now life has changed forever.
Before you find yourself standing in the hospital room of a double amputee saying, “I’m sorry for your loss,” check out these seven phrases that bring comfort in a time of tragedy. Continue reading