Extreme Jobs


How many hours a week do you work? Do you travel? Do you supervise or mentor people? Are you required to be available to clients 24/7? Do you have to attend work-related events outside of regular work hours? Are there even such things as “regular work hours” where you work?

If you answered yes to these questions, then you might just have what Sylvia Ann Hewlett calls an “Extreme Job.” In her book Off-Ramps and On-Ramps: Keeping Talented Women on the Road to Success, Hewlett discusses the rise of extreme jobism as a barrier which keeps women from the executive suite, but also keeps men stressed and harried. It’s true, fewer women with children hold extreme jobs than do men — mainly because of the competing demands of work and family. Women who are also moms tend to step down, or away, from extreme jobs in an effort to find a balance in their lives.

Hewlett backs up her arguments with terrific research. In surveys, people in extreme jobs report the toll their work life takes on their health — “more than two thirds don’t get enough sleep, half don’t get enough exercise, and a significant number overeat, consume too much alcohol, or rely on medications to relieve insomnia or anxiety,” Hewlett finds.

But the biggest toll comes in the personal life of people with extreme jobs. Hewlett cites Arlie Hochschild’s book The Time Bind, and talks about the stress on a relationship when both people work long hours at demanding jobs. “Hochchild shows that for many professionals ‘home’ and ‘work’ have reversed roles: home is where you expect to find stress — and guilt; while work has become the ‘haven in a heartless world’ — the place where you get strokes and respect, a place where success is more predictable.”

Just about the same time I read Hewlett’s book, the Washington Post ran an article about workaholism. Serendipitous coincidence for me, because I was able to connect some dots. The Post article suggested workaholics take a look at relationships in the family, and ask, “Do you routinely get home after the kids are in bed? Miss important family events? Do you get impatient with family members because you have so much work to do?” The Post quotes Chris Essex from the Center for Work and the Family who says that some workaholics “choose to stay at work because family is harder work. They have skills and training that allow them to be successful at work, but they don’t have the skills and training to be successful at home.”

See a theme here?

It seems that sometimes people use the demands of their job as a barrier to real, deep connection with others. Busy single people can’t make plans with others; busy married people can’t make plans with their families. Which is one big, honking way to avoid connecting with people at all.

Kinda sad, isn’t it?

The rules and roles are well-defined at work — thus giving the control freak among us plenty of comfort. At home, however, the footing’s somewhat dicier, and harder to control. So, stay at work — in the comfort zone — or come home, where all bets are off.

If you recognize yourself in this paradigm, there are some things you can do to begin balancing your life and making deeper connections with your family and friends:

1) Start measuring yourself by a new yardstick. Rather than making your long hours and demanding schedule a “badge of honor”, define yourself in other ways — as a good parent, a good friend, a good squash player. So many times I’ve been in situations where one person talks about how demanding their job is only to have the next person “one-up” with how demanding their job is. If you find yourself in this kind of dueling banjos, just stop. De-escalate. You’ll be doing everyone a favor if you are a walking example of a happy, balanced life.

2) If you are the boss and you demand that your staff model your driven behavior, ask yourself if that’s really necessary. Do you have stressed-out people? Do you have people who are frequently ill? How’s morale? Do you have high turnover? Hewlett points out that it costs one and a half times a person’s salary to replace them — it costs more the higher in the organization you go. Workaholism, then, costs you more as a manager than it likely gets you. Change the group think, and you will get happier, more productive people who like what they do — and, as I’ve often found — will stay loyal to you and your organization.

3) Get some training. Go to a couples retreat, take some parenting classes or take up a hobby. In our workplaces we get leadership training, diversity training, computer training, ethics training, team building exercises and stress management classes. Why don’t we do this in our own homes? Make a “training schedule” for your non-work life, and build those skills which might be lacking. If you can find rewards from this kind of training — more sex, more happiness, more connection, more fun (just to name a few) — then the reward of an extreme job begins to pale in comparison. Believe me.

The bottom line is this: where you put your attention will grown more important in your life. If you put 120% of your attention on your work life, how much do you have for the rest of you? -80% is my guess. I’m not saying you can’t be successful. You can be. I’m not saying you can’t work hard. You can. The goal is balance. Work smart. Work efficient. Define yourself by your whole life, not just one part of it. It’s in that balance that life has the most meaning. And the most joy.

Finding Joy


Are you happy? Is there joy in your life?

It is so hard for some folks to find joy. Maybe they think they aren’t entitled, or they have the feeling that it’s somehow inappropriate. It’s as if once you become a grown up you must put your shoulder to the wheel, nose to the grindstone keeping a stiff upper lip, and suffer through the rest of your life. Happiness is for the indolent or the indulgent. It’s silent suffering for the rest of us.

Ah, the good old Puritan Work Ethic.

I am here to tell you that it is possible to have both work and joy. It’s possible to have a balance between the two, in a perfect Joy/Work ratio. If you don’t have enough joy in your life, your Joy/Work ratio might be out of balance. Here are just a few things you can do today to right the scales.

  1. Figure out what brings you joy. Do you know how many people have to think about what brings them joy? Plenty, that’s how many. So take a little inventory. Do you find joy with people, or with things? In certain places? With certain aromas? When do you feel joy? As long as it’s legal and doesn’t hurt anyone else, you are good to go.
  1. Be conscious of opportunities for joy. The Buddhists practice “mindfulness”, which includes being aware of one’s surroundings and interactions. In my own life, I realized I got great joy out of the way light plays on living plants and trees. So, I take time to look at the backlit leaves of the red maple outside my office window. I find myself driving or walking and noting the color of tulips, or the pink of the dogwood, or the earthy brown of a moldering tree. And I feel very, very joyful. Be aware of what brings you to that place of joy and be mindful of opportunities to express it.
  1. Make time for joy. Once you figure out what brings you true joy, whether it’s having deep conversations with friends, or watching a baseball fly out of the park, fair, on a summer afternoon, or digging in the dirt, or painting, or yoga, or love – make time for it. Don’t put off your joy until tomorrow, you Puritan you. Tomorrow, as we have all learned by now, may not come the way we think it will.
  1. Express gratitude. It’s been said that it’s impossible to feel both sad and grateful at the same time. Remind yourself just how grateful you are. Then, tell people you value them, journal your grateful thoughts, live in a perpetual state of gratitude. Joy will ensue.

When I was a child, I was enamored of a Hanna-Barbera show – the animated “Gulliver’s Travels.” One of the Lilliputians was a rotund little doom-and-gloom guy whose stock catch-phrase was “We’re doomed. We’ll never make it.” Although I’ve been know to have used this exact catchphrase myself from time to time, I’ve come to figure out that predicting doom usually insures it. I now avoid such predictions at all costs, and seek out the joy in a situation.

There is almost always some joy, somewhere. Real joy is so… joyful. It’s that unbearable lightness of being. It’s like bubbles in good champagne. It’s in a baby’s belly laugh. Dare I say it? Joy is happiness, distilled in a moment.

Yep, I used the H-word. Happiness. Don’t be frightened of the idea of being happy. Happiness is good. Happiness can change your life.

Dr. Jon Haidt, noted researcher at the University of Virginia and author of The Happiness Hypothesis, suggests that the H-word can be rendered in the following formula: H = S + C + V. “S” is your set point – whether you see the glass half empty or half full. “C” stands for the conditions of your life – a long commute, a disability, poverty. “V” covers your voluntary activities, or those things you choose to do: to volunteer, to take a class, to make changes in your life.

To make the quickest jump in H, you can focus on your C and your V. But to dramatically shift the texture and tenor of your life, attack your S. Learning to see the glass as half full, regardless of the circumstances, will profoundly raise your H.

Unabashedly welcome joy into your life. It’ll make you happy.

The Way of Transition


The seasons are changing. I can see it outside my window. There are little buds on the Japanese maple. Tulip tips are pushing up through the ground. There’s a light, warm quality to the breeze – it’s bringing spring.

I love spring. Since I can remember, spring has meant happiness. Sure, it’s my birthday in a few weeks and the kid in me loves that. But the soon-to-be 47 year old grown-up in me has a different reason for joy.

I give a class on Managing Transition. Did you know that each transition begins with an ending? Odd, but so. We end a job, or a relationship, or an old way of being. Then we enter what writer William Bridges calls The Neutral Zone. I like to think of it as the Gray Period.

In my class, I liken the Gray Period to winter. Trees look dead. Grass looks dead. It’s cold. People hunker down. There’s a certain bleak stillness to winter. But inside those lifeless looking trees and plants, plenty is going on. Within each dormant tree are the tiny little beginnings of buds waiting to burst forth.

And so it is, too, with people in transition. They endure an ending which may bring grief, change, uncertainty, immobilization. Then they hunker down in a bleak stillness, seemingly doing nothing… but inside, if they could peek, so much is growing, changing and shifting. Inside, there’s a new beginning.

The new beginning is as inevitable as Spring. A renewal. A new start. A new optimism.

When people in transition tell me there’s no hope, I usually challenge them. Saying there’s no hope is like telling me there’s no Spring! Honey, just as sure as having a birthday, there’s always a Spring.

Certainly, March can come in like a lion or a lamb – it’s an unpredictable month. And transition is equally unpredictable. One can never know the look and shape of a new beginning, nor can we know how it will impact our lives. And perhaps that’s what people who voice “no hope” are trying to address. It’s not that there’s no hope – it’s just that there’s no control.

Control is such an overrated thing. I have a book on my desk (which I’ve not yet read), called A Perfect Mess by Eric Abrahamson and David Freedman which posits that disorder can spark creativity. On the book jacket (which I have read), it says, “Though it flies in the face of almost universally accepted wisdom, moderately disorganized people, institutions, and systems frequently turn out to be more efficient, more resilient, more creative, and in general more effective than highly organized ones…”

In my work I’ve found that those who approach the Gray Period with a certain level of uncertainty, disorder and, most importantly, openness, have a better opportunity to find a novel or creative approach which often sparks their new beginning.

On an episode of The Simpsons, Homer was, once again, out of a job. His daughter Lisa was going through the want ads, looking for a job for her dad. “Dad, here’s one,” she said. “Wanted: a technical supervisor.” “Oh, Lisa,” Homer whined. “I could never do that job. I’m not a technical supervisor, I’m a supervising technician!”

The Gray Period is a time for seeing connections – to see how a technical supervisor can become a supervising technician. How an at-home mom can become a business owner. How a lawyer can become a non-profit executive. How an engineer can become a clergywoman. How a suddenly motherless woman can learn to nurture herself. How down-sizing, or divorce, or even death, can be the best thing that ever happened to you.

And that’s where I find joy. I utterly embrace transition in all its messy splendor. I welcome it for the hope it engenders in me. Because I know that for every ending, there is a new beginning. Every. Single. Time. It may not feel possible in the middle of your own personal Gray Period, but, believe me, Spring is there — just waiting to burst forth.

How will you know when your Gray Period has ended? My friend, when you feel the warm breeze blowing across your face, and see the trees bud, and tulip tops poking up, you will know. You have a new start. You have Spring. Even if your new beginning comes in a month other than March.