“Did Sean fill his open job?” popped up in a Slack message from our Chief People Officer, and I had my answer. Without significant revenue, the company could not survive. Over the weekend, the leaders met to decide who would be laid off to make up the shortfall. Just like that, along with 17% of the company, I was out of work.
When I was 16, my father said, “Happy Birthday, you are grounded until you find a job,” so I found a job and embraced the mantra that has been a constant. What now?
I shut down my computer, grabbed my keys, and went to tend my bruised ego on the golf course. Morning play mid-week was a new experience that did the trick. While changing my shoes in the locker room, one of the ladies invited me to join her for lunch. I caught the words, “Thank you, but I have to go…”, let the request sit for a minute, and accepted. When was the last time I was not eating a ham sandwich in front of my computer? I noticed the gift of choice.
Over the following days, my LinkedIn was peppered with appreciation from my peers. Most of the time, we don’t know how we impact people in our path. For those who took the time to write a note or pick up the phone, their thoughts were the greatest gifts. Contrast this to my immediate manager, who sent me a message asking if I wanted to talk because, if so, he could clear some time. Leadership is a privilege. It is human and fragile; treat it as such. I unwrapped the gift of leadership lessons.
I embraced my chair role for the upcoming 9holers member-guest event, spending newly found hours researching the theme, “Celebrating the Women Who Golf.” I immersed myself in crafting the details that included the history of the LPGA and trivia from women who play golf. When the pro told me he could not deliver the signed pin flag by an LPGA member as promised, I used my sales skills and got it done. I made the centerpieces of hydrangeas & lavender from my garden instead of paying someone to do it. The creativity fed my soul that had been dormant under the sea of zoom calls and google docs. I savored the gift of creativity.
Driving past the LBI Foundation, I noticed there was an art show. With moments to spare, I swerved into the right lane and entered through the exit. I had always been curious about the complex and could do it now. When was the last time I spent forty-five minutes wandering and admiring talent? At the Fireman’s Fair, I stopped and talked to neighbors. I had conversations instead of the causal exchange of shallow pleasantries. I savored the gift of enrichment.
I am where I am supposed to be. Despite being a bit unnerving, I am going to let it be. (Cue Paul McCartney) Despite the wrapping, the gifts have been many, which is not what I expected. Now onto the next one with a new appreciation for the opportunity.
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