BLUE TO YELLOW

I recently read a blog (Advice Fortune Cookie) where a reader asked of the blog writer, a 'wise fortune cookie', how do they win the lottery, find the perfect life partner, land that dream job? How can they increase the chances of these things happening? Why don't all these things 'come' to them? Especially when they purchase copious amounts of lottery tickets, go to all the places where the singles are and read all the wanted ads. 

The 'wise fortune cookie' responded to the enquirer that the dilemma that they faced was not one of luck but was in fact based in science. The reason why the enquirer felt that the lottery, a perfect match and the dream job eluded them was due to probability and that basically life is a numbers games. It is the size of the odds, in the scheme of things, that has the greatest impact on whether these things happen or not . 

I'm not going to write about probability. The author of Advice Fortune Cookie does a far better job of explaining probability (I recommend you read Money and love and landing that job: The role probability plays throughout our lives) than I ever could. But what I liked about this blog was the wonderful descriptive analogy used to explain why things don't happen just the way we want them too. Why sometimes no matter how many lottery tickets you buy, how many people you date, how many jobs you apply for, sometimes it feels like the odds are against you.

In the blog the reader is asked to compare life to a giant ball pit full of balls of two colours, blue and yellow. In order to get what you wanted from life; money, love, job, you merely need to dip your hand into the ball pit and pull out a ball. The trick, however, is to pull out the right colour ball. The problem, especially in the case of winning the lottery, is that the chances of picking the right colour ball is greatly reduced simply because of the sheer numbers of the wrong colour ball. Or to put it more simply, in order to became rich from winning the lottery you need to find the one yellow ball buried in a sea of millions and millions and millions of blue ones.

That's life. It's not easy to grab that one yellow ball amidst the sea of blue ones. Sometimes we get lucky and the odds come up really good but more often than not we are faced with a sea of blue. 

Which brings me to why I am writing this. Not that long ago I faced my own sea of blue. I was lucky enough to be short listed for the role of Creative Consultant on a Landscape Project. I won’t bore you with the details, but I have to say I was surprised when I got the call to advise me that I had been short listed. The project was interstate and I thought my chances where, at best, a long shot. Although I did work really hard on my proposal, and I suppose in doing so reduced the odds somewhat. In fact I had reduced the odds to the point where there were only three balls in the ball pit and I only had to pick out the one I needed. The yellow one. But even when there is only three balls the odds are still three to one and after all my effort I still ended up with a blue one.

Yes, I was disappointed that I had missed out on getting the yellow ball. It was frustrating knowing that it was right there, staring me in the face. I had done a lot of work and had jumped on a plane and flown interstate to get it. But someone else was better, closer, had a greater chance at snatching it out of the pit. And snatch it they did, at the last moment, out of from under my hand just as I was reaching for it.

As I flew home I reflected on being so close to having the prized yellow ball. But rather than dwell on the fact that someone else now had it I decided to have a look at what I had been left with, the wrong coloured ball. I began to think "what if I can make this ball different, it's still a ball, it's still round, it just isn't yellow. What if I can make this ball yellow? How can I make this ball yellow?" And before I had even got off the plane I had forgotten that I had missed out of this job and was well into planning the next and all the others that would come after. Instead of worrying about the yellow ball that had got away, I was now focused getting the next one. I just have to get that yellow ball.

Probability, the odds, the numbers game, they can often feel like they are stacked against you. But changing your perception of a situation is a powerful thing. I had a one in three chance of a yellow ball. I got so close to this one that I got to see it, understand it, examine it but it was not to be. Instead I got something else, a different colour, the same shape, but still a ball. I figure though, now I know what that yellow ball looks like I have a better idea of how to get it. It shouldn't take too much to change the colour. To increase the odds of getting a yellow one next time. 

THE REASON

I noticed the other day that I hadn't posted anything on my "Chicken on the Head" blog since the 6th of May. No, that can't be right. Surely it hasn't been that long. Today is... the 6th of July! Oh wait, it has been that long.  Where has the last two months gone?

No more excuses, it's time to get back of the horse, to get to back to it.

So tar dah. 

Announcing... the "Chicken of the Head" blog re-start.

I do have a reason for this pause. It's not because I had nothing to say. Anyone who knows me would agree that I rarely have nothing to say. It's quite the opposite, I often have more to say than most people. The reason for the pause is also not because I had nothing to writing. Like my need to have something to say, my need to write has also not diminished. I have been writing. I have been writing lots, great tomes of stuff.

I have been writing story ideas that pop into my head, bits of novels that I have started and have been adding to in fits and starts. I have been writing more tales about my fictitious Uncle Maurie and bad poetry. I have been writing expressions of interests for work, copious emails, shopping lists, Facebook posts, and a first drafts for the "Chicken on the Head" blog. Only thing is, none of this writing makes into the blog. Lets face it, does anyone really want to read my shopping lists or an expressions of interest for some job. I don't think so. 

The other thing that has been happening is that everything that I write for the blog, I write in a note book that lives next to my bed, ready for those 3 am "don't think you are going to sleep" ideas that pop into my head. Yes, I write pretty much everything in long hand in a note book before you get to see it. The trick is getting it out of the note book and onto a computer screen. 

I don't normally make excuses for my behaviour, my doing or not doing. I try and live by the rule of being 100% responsible for my own actions. If it hasn't be done, it's because I haven't done it. But this time I do have an excuse, actually it is more of a reason than an excuse. A very good reason why the stuff in my head has made it only as far as my note book and has failed to get onto the computer screen. I have been busy.

Or more accurately, my life has become busy.

When I left my job back in March this year, I made the decision to make space in my life. Up until that point I had been running around like the proverbial chicken with no head and not really getting anywhere. I needed to stop, breathe and get my life back on track. And stop I did, almost a dead stop. I gave myself time and I have to admit that during this time I spent more than one day on the couch, in my pj's, watching bad daytime TV. I was exhausted, burnt out, overwhelmed by my life. But I knew this and prepared for it and gave myself permission to take this time. Six weeks of pajama wearing, navel gazing nothingness so that when May arrived I would be ready. Ready to get going again.

By the time May did arrive though, boredom was starting to set in. My navel gazing and categorising of bellybutton fluff was starting to have an odd effect on me. My hope and positivity was starting to drain from my sole and hopelessness loomed like a solid brick wall. I began to have a niggling feeling that I had made the worst decision of my life. That is was a big mistake to leave my "oh so secure" job in search of freedom, passion and a life beyond the four walls of a 6 x 4 grey cubical. Panic was setting in. The CV came out. My belief in myself was bottoming out. I heard that they were hiring again at my old job, a lower paid position than the one I had left. One that wasn't a management role, with much less responsibilities. Maybe I could have my cake and eat it too.

I have a weird belief in my life. I believe that just when you think you are about to chuck it in or if you can't make a decision or are at a lose end the universe steps up and whacks you around the side of the head and offers up a chance to change. This has happened to me several times during my life so these days when it happens I usually sit up and pay attention. It was as I was deciding whether to return to my old job that I received my kick in the pants by the universe and things began to change. I stopped, took a breath and listened, to myself, to my daughter and to a friend. I knew I couldn't go back to that "oh so secure" job. That there was no going back. And in that instant, things began to change.

Which brings me to what I have been doing since the last post on the 6th May. The reason why nothing has appeared on the blog. I have been working and writing and planning and networking and gardening and, believe it or not, making space in my life to let these things happen.

I have been working with an Architect friend on his projects. I have been following my passion for writing when ever I have a free moment. I have been planning the development of a community garden for Canungra with some new friends. I have been strategising and planning the development of my landscape architecture business, traveling interstate for a job proposal and seeking out new opportunities. I have been getting my hands dirty in my garden, building with the help of my husband a wallaby, chicken and dog proof veggie garden, ready for spring planting. I have been breathing, making space and taking notice. I have moved on.

So the reason is, I have been busy. Busy living. It's not an excuse, just the reason. Because when you are busy life is at it's best. Life is great when your busy but not hectic.

I'm pretty sure I will still spend the occasional day on the couch in pj's but now I prefer to do that when the week that stretches out before me is littered stuff that involves writing and working, gardening and planning, family and friends. A week that is busy.

R & 9

Today's post is brought to you by the letter R and the number 9.

R for resignation. From my job. 

9 for the number of years I have been in my job. 9 and a half to be correct. 

And this is what the blog has been all about. This is what the Year of the Chicken actually represents. Unfortunately I couldn't say anything until now but two weeks ago R-day arrived and now I can let you all in on the secret. 

Chicken on the head! 

Does it all make sense now? A bit cryptic I know and I am sorry if I have totally confused anyone but it would be professional suicide to announce on a blog that you intend to resign from your job months in advance. 

And now we go retrospect. What you are about to read below was written last year. Right before the "Year of the Chicken" started.When I made my decision. 

So without further ado. I present to you the first real post for the "Chicken on the Head" blog. 

The Year of the Chicken  

Have you ever sat next to someone at work who always seemed to be daydreaming of something bigger, something better. Who is always talking about "chucking it all in to go..." sailing... travelling... surfing... lama farming in the Andes. The general bumming around mentality of someone who's head is clearly not at work. Crazy, yeah? Or, maybe you are that person and the tedium of a work-a-day life is just too much to bear. Well, I'm with you brother. And I am about to start my Year of the Chicken.

Year of the Chicken? What exactly is that? Sit back, relax and let me enlighten you.

A few years back I read this book about being addicted to the "cheese" of job security. The situation where no matter how bad a job gets some of us will stick at it, because the job feds our need for security, because it has "perks". The security and "perks", in my case, is a good superannuation package, a 9 day fortnight, plenty of leave each year and a healthy secure wage coming in every fortnight. This "cheese" is suppose to be enough for me/us to over look the other not so great aspects of the job. Like mice is a lab maze, we are kept being fed the "cheese" so that we don't notice the monotony of the place, that there is often no way out or up and worst of all, no goal at the end other than the small bits of "cheese" we have received along the way. Which is great if you want to be a lab mouse but not so good if you want to, say, go lama farming in the Andes.

The author of this insightful book, unfortunately I don't remember the title but it isn't "Who stole my cheese", wrote about the office that he worked in and a work colleague who dreamed of being a small farm holder. The work colleague was an accountant and the general consensus around the office was that he was completely "off his tree". One day the accountant/wannabe small farm holder stopped at a stock auction on his way to work and bought himself a chicken. When he arrived at the office, with a chicken under his arm, there were a few raised eyebrows and weary looks but the author realised that this was the beginning of the end for the accountant. The wannabe small farm holder had taken his first step towards his dream.

At this point when recounting the story I usually get asked "what did he do with the chicken all day while he was at work?" Like that is the most important thing. Apparently he put it in his locker, according to the book. Not sure how PC that is but that's the story in the book.

Chickens inside lockers aside. I'm telling you all this because I when I read this I grabbed that idea and ran with it. I have joked at work for years "if anyone sees a chicken running around here, it's mine". And about four weeks ago that chicken came flapping and squawking into my office in a way that just couldn't be ignored. My chicken had arrived and I knew it was time. Time to start my "Year of the Chicken"

What does a "Year of the Chicken" look like. Hummm. Not exactly sure. There is some planning to do. A business plan to write, business cards to order, web-sites to build, and mostly importantly clients to be found and secured. Officially I wont be starting until around May/June 2015 so there is a bit of work to be done. 

The first step for me was to make the decision. That's a big step. There is a lot of "cheese" at stake here, and all different types of "cheese". "Cheese" that is soft and gooey. "Cheese" that is hard and bitey. "Cheese" that is so bland that you are not even sure that it is "cheese". "Cheese" that really, really stinks. There is even stuff that is pretending to be "cheese" but really isn't "cheese", this type of "cheese" can be a real trap for young players. But, unfortunately there is not nearly enough of the type of "cheese" I need at my work to keep me there. 

I'm a Landscape Architect. My passion is to create spaces and places were people can interact and relax and feel good about themselves. I design movement, activity, community. When I first came to the place where I work I felt privileged because it allowed me to follow my passion in are region which is mostly populated with economically disadvantage and marginalised people. People who would never have the economic opportunity to "hire" a Landscape Architect. This rated high on my moral and ethical compass. 

But... in the last 18 months or so my job has been slowly evolving, or more correctly regressing. And like weeds slowly invading a garden bed my work as a Landscape Architect has been eroded away until I now find that my work is no more than performing bureaucratic tasks normally associate with low level administrative management in a government authority. I no longer do the traditional work of a Landscape Architect, designing, drawing, creating, instead I complete the forms, write the memos and reports, attend the meetings that while still associated with the role of a Landscape Architect mostly more associated with day to day administration than strategy or planning. Barely holding onto the "cheese" I valued most, I had my yearly performance review. I realised that I hadn't not done any real design work for almost 12 months, and the year ahead wasn't looking to promising either. My chicken had arrived.

Okay, the chicken has arrived. What next? The big decision. A few issues to tackle here, the usual issues connected to the financial "cheese". But after doing the sums and working out time-frames,  I arrived at the date. March 13 2015. My Dad's 80th birthday. The weekend my niece gets married. An auspicious date. This will be the day that I pack up what's left of "cheese", grab my chicken and leave the maze. 

That's the easy part, sticking to it, that's the hard part. Time to confess past sins. In the past, I have given myself dates like this and always chickened out (no pun intended). This time, however, I have to ensure that I have everything in place, stitched up so to speak, to make sure I don't back out on the deal. 

This time so that I don't back out I will log the date that I am due to resign by in my calendar, along with the date that will be my last day. This time I will write my letter of resignation well in advance. Before Christmas. I will make it my Christmas present to myself. And most importantly, I will plan out and diarise what I will be doing once I have set myself free. This is critical for two reasons. Number one to keep myself accountable and make sure I do it. Number two, and this is more important than number one, to make sure that I plan what I have to do after I finish. Time is a moving beast, and it moves pretty damn fast. Before I know it my "Year of the Chicken" will be over and all that I will have shown for it will be that I have had a nice year long holiday. Great for lazy days in the garden, not so good for the bank balance. So organisation and planning is the key to staying on track and having a successful year. 

So it begins. The Year of the Chicken.

Fingers crossed. Wish me luck.

oOo

The above was written as the end of October last year. 

Fast forward to today. The first step of the plan has been actioned. I resigned from my "cheese" laden job two weeks ago. I don't think I slept so soundly in months. It felt really good. 

I did everything I planned. I wrote the resignation letter before Christmas and put the date on it. Actually I moved the date closer because once I have made up my mind it had became much easier to do. 

Leaving day has also been brought forward to the 12th March. Just because I want a long weekend. No other reason. 

Once I live my job I plan on giving myself a bit of time. A couple of weeks. But then it will be action stations. Like I said time is a moving beast and it will not wait for me to get my act together. 

I thought I would be nervous but instead I am really excited. I can't wait to get started. I don't know what this year will hold but what I do know that no amount of cheese is worth staying in a job that is not right for you.