Skip to main content

Fishing for a Dream

“He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone for eighty-four days now without taking a fish.”  No, no, it's the Au Sable river in Michigan.  . . . It’s time for enlightened self-interest. Place your financial future front and center in your life. I’m not a person looking for a job. I’m a company, a financial entity providing cash flow to enjoy a healthy lifestyle over the next 50 years. Wake-up!

Your eyes flicker and slowly open. The clock on the dresser says 3:45 a.m. In a semi-consciousness state you stumble out of bed. You make your way down the hall to that little room where the world has absolved you of all obligations to communicate with another human being. Privacy.

Well, now that you're up - let’s enjoy a cup of of hot coffee. One sugar and a little milk please Junior. Who am I talking to? Shaking your head, you realize, no one in their right mind is up this early, go back to bed. Right Junior? The cat is sitting next to the refrigerator watching your every move.

But you don't understand . . . I’m awake! My mind has kicked into high gear. Thoughts exploding in bright white flashes. Information overload. Words. Ideas. Stories. Suggestions. Maybe it’s panic. Or is it just the way I fish? Call it habit, call it quirky, call it idiotic - but call it. Promise I won't call or text you on the phone.

 This is my most productive time. Deep down, in some peculiar way, everyone knows their most productive time. That special time of day when your gifts, skills, temperament, and experiences collide to synthesize ideas that've been churning in your brain. Now is the time to put it to paper. Create something from nothing. My dream job. I realize you don't have to look very far to see that writers are a quirky lot . . . “When I come back you can tell me about baseball.” Read Hemingway.

 This all surfaced while studying, What Color is Your Parachute? 2014: A Practical Manual for Job Hunters and Career Changers. These past few weeks I've spent countless hours reading, writing, and re-writing - a resume! I've discovered there are no rules, really. How do you entice a hiring manager to get you in the door?

 It’s like fly fishing. Find the feeding lane and place the fly delicately upstream to entice the fish. Are you kidding me? All this work just to create a resume? What’s the point? The point, I’m repeatedly told in seminars, webinars, and all the books is this. You need the right combination of flies, key words, that summarizes your skills and accomplishments.

 Ok, I get it. But get this, statistics show “The average time an employer spends reading a resume is about eight seconds.” Yes, you heard correctly - eight seconds.

Ultimately it all comes back to fishing for your dream job. Let’s assume for just 60 seconds, all the tumblers in the universe align. You can picture in your minds eye the job in which you would best shine. Why, because it taps into the best of who you are. The place where your gifts, skills, temperament, and experiences collide. Good luck!

Oh, bye the way, do you know anyone hiring for 5:00 am? If you hear of anything, please let me know. Like The Old Man and the Sea, it’s obvious I need to get back to my fishing expedition. My quest for a fulling life, not just a job. Or maybe, I just need to take a nap and dream.

 Updated January 7, 2019
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Most Popular of All Time

Feeling Human Again

In this episode, The Unexpected Thankfulness of Feeling Human Again I’ll be honest with you: My triumphant return from France was not the glamorous homecoming I had imagined. No graceful glide back into routine. No cinematic jet-setter moment where I lift my suitcase off the carousel and wink at life like we’re old pals. Instead? I came home and immediately launched into a two-week performance piece titled The Great American Couch Collapse. My days blurred together in a haze of soup, hot tea, tissues, and desperate negotiations with the universe for just one nostril—one!—to function properly. The living room sofa became my emotional support furniture. And any creative idea that dared tiptoe into my congested brain was gently shown the exit with a firm but courteous, “Not today, friend. Try again later.” When life hits the pause button like that—when you’re exhausted, sick, and mentally unplugged—how do you find your spark again? Somehow, today, I felt it. A tiny shift. A clearing of th...
1 comment
Read more

The Compass of Cuba: Mom

🎄  Preview of this week's  On the Fly  blog: A Holiday Tribute to Mom. As the holidays hustle with pixels and beeps, the world scrolls along in a smartphone-y sleep. I log off for a moment—just one little minute— To breathe in the past and to sit myself in it. My mind doesn’t wander to faraway places, Or trips full of tickets and new airport faces. Instead, it drifts backward, as memories do, to Cuba, Illinois, where the best moments grew. To a home full of warmth, in the wintry Midwest, Where my mother—dear “Marcie”—put love to the test. With a smile that could melt the most frigid of dawns, and hugs that hung on you like shivering fawns. She came from La Rochelle in France, brave and bright, Across oceans and war shadows, into new light. A town full of strangers soon felt like her own, And her courage built up the foundation of home. “Oh yes, we know Marcie!” the locals would say— “It's Doc Ball’s French lady! She brightens the day!” She cleaned, and she cooked, and sh...
Post a Comment
Read more

Patience – the Only First-Class Ticket

In this episode, Why Patience is the Only First-Class Ticket They say travel broadens the mind. After eight days sailing the Rhône with 140 fellow luxury vacationers, I can confirm it also tests patience, calf strength, buffet strategy, and one's tolerance for people furious that France insists on being French. Don't get me wrong—I adored this trip. The river shimmered like liquid optimism. The villages looked hand-painted. The pastries could negotiate world peace. But somewhere between Ship Horn Hello and Bon Voyage, we'd inadvertently boarded a floating behavioral research study disguised as a holiday. Our ship was less a cruise and more a ferry for the Sailors of Status. ⌚ The Wristwatch Wars Some passengers approached relaxation like yogis. Others treated leisure like a final exam with extra credit. I came to believe certain luxury watches emit ultrasonic signals that only their owners can detect. A frequency calibrated to trigger rapid movement toward any line forming...
1 comment
Read more

Up the Rhône

Up the Rhône by Patrick Ball We booked a fine cruise up the Rhône — what a treat! With iPhones, lanyards, and schedules so neat. They promised us peace and a mind that would mend, But each calm beginning had chores at the end! "Now breakfast at seven! At eight, take the view!" At nine, there's a lecture on ' What Tourists Do!' At noon, there's a tasting (you must love the cheese), Then hurry to nap time — as corporate decrees! I followed that plan till my patience ran dry. The Rhône softly chuckled, "Oh my, oh my, my! You've missed half my sparkles, my ripples, my tone— You're busy pretending you've peacefully grown!" So I fired my planner and banished my clock. I tossed my agenda right off the dock! I let the wind tickle my schedule away, and drifted through hours that danced where they may. I chatted with swans, had no notion of when, I'd nibble, or nap, or go roaming again. No Wi-Fi! No meetings! No planning! No fuss! Just me and ...
1 comment
Read more