Preface

“Most people experience the transition to a new working life as a time of confusion, loss, insecurity, and struggle. And this uncertain period usually lasts much longer than anyone imagines at the outset. An Ivy League network doesn’t help; even ample financial reserves and great family support do not make the emotions any easier to bear. Much more than transferring to a similar job in a new company or industry, or moving laterally into a different work function within a field we already know well, a true change of direction is almost always terrifying, even as it is exhilarating.

We like to think that we can leap directly from a desire for change to a single insight or decision that will complete our reinvention. As a result, we remain naive about the long, essential testing period when our actions transform (or fail to transform) fuzzy, undefined possibilities into concrete choices we can evaluate.

Endings are tougher and take longer than we think. No matter how unhappy we may be in a job, most of us continue to revisit the possibility of making it work because the present role is necessarily tied to a possible self—an image, outdated though it may be, of whom we once wanted to become. June’s academic identity, for example, kept reasserting itself throughout the entire transition period, even after she had handed in her resignation. “My department was family, a dysfunctional one,” June says, “but one I was an intimate part of, one I joined at age seventeen when I went to college.” For her, leaving academia meant not just giving up a long-term career objective but also an image of who she should become that important people in her life, including her mentor, harbored. The emotions she felt when she found the pile of draft articles that would have assured her professorial future show just how much giving up a possible self—even one that has become a burden or lost its appeal—marks a real loss.

Most of us know what we are trying to escape: the lockstep of a narrowly defined career, inauthentic or unstimulating work, numbing corporate politics, a lack of time for life outside work. But finding an alternative that truly fits, like finding our mission in life, is not a problem that can be solved overnight. It takes time. Whatever the first step, the process gradually changes the nature of what we know and what we seek to learn. Learning happens in cycles. Early cycles focus on the most immediate (or surface) problems.

These are very good questions. In a series of studies on the introduction of new technologies, MIT researchers discovered a windows-of-opportunity effect. They found that managers have only a discrete time period in which to effect real behavioral and organizational changes after introducing a new technology. After that period, use of the technology tended to “congeal,” freezing unresolved problems at least until the next crisis. Whatever changes did not get made during that window were put off for much later, usually not until the consequences of those latent problems accumulated to provoke a crisis. Likewise, windows of opportunity open and close back up again in career change.