Reading Porridge...

Thick. Chewy. "The 7 Habits" is all of that. I've read it many years ago, and it's still relevant-maybe even more so-than the first reading.

"Begin with the end in mind." What the hell does that mean?

It means find the purpose.
Act meaningfully.
Don't live your life acted upon.

Whose life is this, anyway?

Love the way Covey has broken down thought processes here-"2 Creations" for every creation.
It's so true: Every idea is a creation first. Visualized by an individual. Manifested and made tangible if all goes well. The whole "visualization" trend made it all seem trite, but if you are clear on what you're aiming for, that's that first step towards having it come to fruition.

When I first had thoughts of stepping back into the Big Bad world of academia, I thought it through, made a ridiculous schedule that no one in their right mind would have survived (although I would have done it, I tell you...the survival level is what is in question...), only to have my employer of 12 years say "No." As if I hadn't made her an awful lot of money and given her years of my life and more energy than she knew. I was astounded. Really shocked.

I'd never even considered the possibility of her refusing my offer to continue to earn money for her and her company, but to add something for myself into the mix. She'd said no.

I told my direct boss "You know I'll find a job that allows me to do this."

I emailed The Hot Tamale Man himself and said that I wasn't going to be able to sing with him after all, but that I would find a job that would allow me the opportunity.

"If anyone can do it, I believe you will." he said, or something like that.

Within six months I had a new and really much better job. Here's how it all played out:

After I took a little bit of time to lick my wounds, I sat up and was mad. Now, I don't recommend anger as a motivating force for change, but this time it sure worked in my favor. I was so angry that this company saw me as expendable, and a cog in the wheel, that there was no way they'd ever get to my heart again. I started actively looking for a job.

My husband told me about an opening. I applied. I got a first interview. I got a second. I looked at my husband, feeling a little brazen when the words came out of my mouth, a little less than humble and said "You know I'm going to get this job, don't you?..." I don't talk like that...

I'd gone into the interviews knowing that it was right. Not the least bit weirded out that it wasn't necessarily something I'd done before. I'm not an idiot-train me. Teach me something new. The Big Boss asked me "Why do you think you'd be good at this?"

"Because I want to be."

Got the job.
Won Salesperson of the Year in my rookie year.

I wanted to.

I'd envisioned where it was I wanted to go, and I made tracks.
Even if someone trying to stop me made me make up my mind, I've always said "There's nothing stronger than a made up mind."

I'd hit a wall. I knew I needed out. I set my sights and everything fell at my feet. All of the pieces fell together. The timing was uncanny, but I don't believe it was an accident, or a random thing. It was, I believe, because I was ready, I was clear, I was specific. I wanted to be somewhere that would allow me the freedom to do something for personal enrichment. The idea came first. Then I manifested that dream. Too cool.