Ep 40: Walking a Different Path Workshop
92,000 Hours
In this episode of 92,000 Hours, we’re discussing how it feels and looks when we walk a different path to success. What’s been your biggest move in life? What is your biggest dream that hasn’t become reality? This week’s episode asks you to examine your early childhood goals and the people who support you as you go through the journey – no matter which path you take.
Get the Walking a Different Path worksheet here.
If you want to leave us a voicemail about your thoughts on this episode, you can reach us at 385-501-7333 or annalisa@connectioncollaborative.com.
Transcript
Welcome to the 92,000 Hours podcast, the podcast where we acknowledge that we spend more time at work than at anything else in our lives besides sleeping. Here we talk about how to make those hours meaningful and worthy of our limited time. This season, we have embarked on a workshop series. Each episode builds on the other. Last time, we talked about priorities and this time, we’re going to give ourselves permission to walk a different path. I’m your host, Annalisa Holcombe.
I have a question for you. Settle in and think back to when you were a young child - maybe 5 years old or so. Think about that time in your life - what you did for fun, where you lived, who you lived with, the way you saw the world. Situate yourself as 5 year old you. Are you there yet? Now, as your child self, what did you want to be when you grew up? Really think about it. What is it? Is it expansive? Is it audacious? Is it exciting? Is it maybe even a little funny?
When we allow ourselves the freedom to think about our lives from the perspective of a young child, we also give ourselves permission to release judgment. Young children more often approach the world - and their own lives in it - with a sense of excitement and wonder. Jobs like astronaut and sanitation worker are each reasonable paths at 5 years old - both full of adventure and oh so interesting. As an adult, we know so much more about these jobs - what they pay, how society views them, what it might take to get that job, etc. But as little kids, the world is wide open to possibility. In fact, just last night my 10 year old daughter told me she had a new idea for a career. In the last year she has wanted to be a dance instructor, an actress, an artist, and now she’d like to own a bakery - in Japan. That expansiveness, that notion of limitless possibilities, is something that I’d like you to really think about right now.
So, when you were young, what did you want to be when you grew up? Write it down. Think about it. What are some of the characteristics of that job or that career? Do any of the aspects of that job still appeal to you? When I was a little girl there was a weekly TV show called the Donny & Marie Show. Donny & Marie were brother and sister from Utah, where I lived. They had a “hit” song (as much as a brother/sister act can have a hit song) where Marie sang about being a “little bit country” and Donny was “a little bit rock and roll”. I can vividly remember being in kindergarten or first grade and getting up and singing with my friend - and she played Marie and I played Donny. And I really wanted to be Donny when I grew up - not Marie. Donny seemed just a little bit more in charge, a little bit more fun, a little bit more free to be himself. When I think back to that time, the parts about wanting to be Donny instead of Marie are still inherently in me. I’m still pushing up against gender stereotypes, especially at work. I’m still frustrated with limitations placed on me or others. I’m still wanting to be all of me - and even a little bit rock and roll - in all aspects of my life.
When I led a college program around this subject, I would bring a big bag of wigs with me. First each participant would share their dream childhood career. Then they would each choose a silly wig to put on and I’d tell them to think about whatever career they had just shared with us, and to take on the characteristics of that career as soon as they put on the wig. It was great fun. As you’d imagine, we would often have people claiming to be an astronaut, football player, or famous actress, but sometimes we had rock star and teacher and mom and once - even a cow.
After we put on the wigs and took on the persona of the role, we’d go out on campus and introduce ourselves to people we didn’t know - as astronauts or presidents. We’d walk down the busy street in a group, wearing wigs. And as we did so, we’d take note not only of how we felt and reacted, but also to how other people responded to us. Some people smiled and engaged and were intrigued by our strangeness, some people purposefully looked the other way or avoided eye contact with us. When we walked down the busy street, some people stared straight ahead and refused to see us. Others honked and waved. But every child that drove past us in a car was clearly just aching to get out and join us in whatever wild thing we were doing.
When we returned to our classroom and removed the wigs, we talked about what we felt and saw. *I was often surprised that about half of the group truly despised the whole experience. They didn’t like bringing attention to themselves in such a strange and different way - even to strangers. And I was just as surprised at how the other half of the group came alive when they put on the wigs. It was as if they found a part of themselves that had just been waiting to be released!
Clearly, the exercise was all about societal expectations and the expectations that we put on ourselves. When we talked about our careers and the way we thought about them as children, we acknowledged that we were choosing without all of the expectations that our parents, friends, siblings and teachers had for us about what we were “supposed” to do, or that we’d be good at, when we grew up. We were just looking at the options with abundance and with a lens for happiness and joy first. As young children, we allowed ourselves to think about walking all sorts of different paths for ourselves. As we get older those paths begin to narrow as we understand them a bit more, and as we begin to sort ourselves into types or put ourselves into boxes. We start to hear from the people around us about what we’d be good at or what they do. We think about how much money we will make. We learn about jobs that have different levels of respect in our society. We understand how much money it will take to get us prepared for those different jobs. All sorts of things happen that begin to narrow our focus.
And that’s okay. But what happens when we allow ourselves to imagine with that childlike wonder we once had about our potential futures? Would you still pursue that “unlikely” job or role if you truly felt free to do so? And, if you wouldn’t, is there some aspect of that role that you remain really attracted to, and can you incorporate that into your life in some other way? One of my participants used that experience to remind himself that no, he doesn’t need to be a professional baseball player, but as an adult, he also doesn’t need to give up the joy of playing baseball for fun. He committed to joining an adult league to continue to experience the joy of the game, and the importance of bringing back the activity of allowing himself to simply play in his adult life.
And when we walked out into the world in such an unexpected way, with wigs and stories and personas, we were again clearly walking a different path. The experience was so different for each person. One of the international students was able to articulate his discomfort really well, explaining that as an immigrant to the U.S., he worked very hard at assimilating. He felt that it was imperative to his success in this country and to his future. By asking him to be so different, he experienced a sense of real unease. What an important lesson for all of us. Sometimes our situations do not allow us to stand out, to be different. Sometimes our differences are actually dangerous. Even our ability to express ourselves in alternative ways can be a true privilege.
But another lesson from the walking a different path experience can be used by all of us. When the entire group was together walking down the street, even though we were all wearing wigs and behaving differently, there was some real camaraderie. It was a completely different experience than when we each had to approach a stranger with a wig on, by ourselves. And it is THAT lesson that I also really want to share here.
Because here is the thing: all of us, at some point in our lives, will do something unexpected. Or at least we will want to. It could be moving to a different city, choosing a different job, marrying someone that surprises your family, or choosing to get a divorce. Big things happen in our lives and we make choices that are off the path that others have expected of us. Will you make those choices? Or will you be too afraid to make those choices for yourself?
What we learned through the wig exercise was that when you do something truly unexpected - when you walk that different path - it is so much easier if you have people by your side. If you have a core group of people you can go to who will not only support you in your new and different path, but who will link arms with you, and symbolically put on a strange wig, and be willing to walk down that path arm in arm. We need those supporters who will love us no matter the path we choose, and especially when we are choosing something that surprises them. I encourage you to think really critically about who those people are for you. Write their names down. Reach out to them. Commit to supporting them and walking arm in arm with them when they will inevitably choose a path that you didn’t expect.
And another important lesson I learned over the years from this exercise. One year a member of our group had cerebral palsy. After full wig and path exercise, she provided context about her experience in life. She explained that the way we all felt walking around with a wig on and having people react to us with discomfort or fear was something she lived with - every day of her life. She said - while you all get to take the wig off now and go back out in the world without the experience of being so clearly different, just remember that I never get to “take the wig off” of my disability. I am always different, I am always isolated, people are rarely linking arms with me and walking the path that my life is on. Please remember that - and how you felt during this experience - when you encounter individuals who are differently abled.
It was such a powerful statement, one I carry with me every day. There are so many individuals who are walking different paths, with courage and grace and resilience and power, that we may not even see or recognize. I encourage you to be aware, to really see the courage that is happening all around you. There are people who are embarking on courageous journeys each day, who could use a word of encouragement or support.
And then, give yourself the same support. Identify your dreams and your wonder. Name the aspects of your childhood that brought you joy. Cultivate that joy by finding ways to bring it into your current role or career. And if you can’t do that at your job, look for it in other areas of your life. Give yourself permission to experience childlike wonder and joy.
Notice when you are drawn to walk a different path. Give yourself permission to think through what that path might look like. Cultivate the deep friendships - just a few. We’ve talked about Brene Brown’s idea of a “square squad” in prior episodes. Nurture your square squad. When you make up your mind to walk a different path, ask them for support. And when they walk their unexpected path, be there for them. Link arms, don the metaphorical wig with them, and let yourself feel the joy that young children exhibited when they saw grown adults walking down the street in strange wigs. Don’t turn away. Lean in to the experience. Embrace your difference and the many paths that still lay before you.
Thank you for joining us. We hope you enjoyed this episode. Please keep engaging by accessing our companion worksheet to this episode - located on our blog at www.connectioncollaborative.com.
We’d also love to hear from you. What did you want to be when you grew up? Are there aspects of that role that still resonate with you? What will you do about that moving forward? How can we help - we’re ready to link arms with you and help you walk your path. You can email me at annalisa@connectioncollaborative.com.
Next time, we’ll talk about what you believe, and what you will say yes and no to after completing this workshop series. I hope you’ll join us.
Welcome to the 92,000 Hours podcast, the podcast where we acknowledge that we spend more time at work than at anything else in our lives besides sleeping. Here we talk about how to make those hours meaningful and worthy of our limited time. This season, we have embarked on a workshop series. Each episode builds on the other. Last time, we talked about priorities and this time, we’re going to give ourselves permission to walk a different path. I’m your host, Annalisa Holcombe.
I have a question for you. Settle in and think back to when you were a young child - maybe 5 years old or so. Think about that time in your life - what you did for fun, where you lived, who you lived with, the way you saw the world. Situate yourself as 5 year old you. Are you there yet? Now, as your child self, what did you want to be when you grew up? Really think about it. What is it? Is it expansive? Is it audacious? Is it exciting? Is it maybe even a little funny?
When we allow ourselves the freedom to think about our lives from the perspective of a young child, we also give ourselves permission to release judgment. Young children more often approach the world - and their own lives in it - with a sense of excitement and wonder. Jobs like astronaut and sanitation worker are each reasonable paths at 5 years old - both full of adventure and oh so interesting. As an adult, we know so much more about these jobs - what they pay, how society views them, what it might take to get that job, etc. But as little kids, the world is wide open to possibility. In fact, just last night my 10 year old daughter told me she had a new idea for a career. In the last year she has wanted to be a dance instructor, an actress, an artist, and now she’d like to own a bakery - in Japan. That expansiveness, that notion of limitless possibilities, is something that I’d like you to really think about right now.
So, when you were young, what did you want to be when you grew up? Write it down. Think about it. What are some of the characteristics of that job or that career? Do any of the aspects of that job still appeal to you? When I was a little girl there was a weekly TV show called the Donny & Marie Show. Donny & Marie were brother and sister from Utah, where I lived. They had a “hit” song (as much as a brother/sister act can have a hit song) where Marie sang about being a “little bit country” and Donny was “a little bit rock and roll”. I can vividly remember being in kindergarten or first grade and getting up and singing with my friend - and she played Marie and I played Donny. And I really wanted to be Donny when I grew up - not Marie. Donny seemed just a little bit more in charge, a little bit more fun, a little bit more free to be himself. When I think back to that time, the parts about wanting to be Donny instead of Marie are still inherently in me. I’m still pushing up against gender stereotypes, especially at work. I’m still frustrated with limitations placed on me or others. I’m still wanting to be all of me - and even a little bit rock and roll - in all aspects of my life.
When I led a college program around this subject, I would bring a big bag of wigs with me. First each participant would share their dream childhood career. Then they would each choose a silly wig to put on and I’d tell them to think about whatever career they had just shared with us, and to take on the characteristics of that career as soon as they put on the wig. It was great fun. As you’d imagine, we would often have people claiming to be an astronaut, football player, or famous actress, but sometimes we had rock star and teacher and mom and once - even a cow.
After we put on the wigs and took on the persona of the role, we’d go out on campus and introduce ourselves to people we didn’t know - as astronauts or presidents. We’d walk down the busy street in a group, wearing wigs. And as we did so, we’d take note not only of how we felt and reacted, but also to how other people responded to us. Some people smiled and engaged and were intrigued by our strangeness, some people purposefully looked the other way or avoided eye contact with us. When we walked down the busy street, some people stared straight ahead and refused to see us. Others honked and waved. But every child that drove past us in a car was clearly just aching to get out and join us in whatever wild thing we were doing.
When we returned to our classroom and removed the wigs, we talked about what we felt and saw. *I was often surprised that about half of the group truly despised the whole experience. They didn’t like bringing attention to themselves in such a strange and different way - even to strangers. And I was just as surprised at how the other half of the group came alive when they put on the wigs. It was as if they found a part of themselves that had just been waiting to be released!
Clearly, the exercise was all about societal expectations and the expectations that we put on ourselves. When we talked about our careers and the way we thought about them as children, we acknowledged that we were choosing without all of the expectations that our parents, friends, siblings and teachers had for us about what we were “supposed” to do, or that we’d be good at, when we grew up. We were just looking at the options with abundance and with a lens for happiness and joy first. As young children, we allowed ourselves to think about walking all sorts of different paths for ourselves. As we get older those paths begin to narrow as we understand them a bit more, and as we begin to sort ourselves into types or put ourselves into boxes. We start to hear from the people around us about what we’d be good at or what they do. We think about how much money we will make. We learn about jobs that have different levels of respect in our society. We understand how much money it will take to get us prepared for those different jobs. All sorts of things happen that begin to narrow our focus.
And that’s okay. But what happens when we allow ourselves to imagine with that childlike wonder we once had about our potential futures? Would you still pursue that “unlikely” job or role if you truly felt free to do so? And, if you wouldn’t, is there some aspect of that role that you remain really attracted to, and can you incorporate that into your life in some other way? One of my participants used that experience to remind himself that no, he doesn’t need to be a professional baseball player, but as an adult, he also doesn’t need to give up the joy of playing baseball for fun. He committed to joining an adult league to continue to experience the joy of the game, and the importance of bringing back the activity of allowing himself to simply play in his adult life.
And when we walked out into the world in such an unexpected way, with wigs and stories and personas, we were again clearly walking a different path. The experience was so different for each person. One of the international students was able to articulate his discomfort really well, explaining that as an immigrant to the U.S., he worked very hard at assimilating. He felt that it was imperative to his success in this country and to his future. By asking him to be so different, he experienced a sense of real unease. What an important lesson for all of us. Sometimes our situations do not allow us to stand out, to be different. Sometimes our differences are actually dangerous. Even our ability to express ourselves in alternative ways can be a true privilege.
But another lesson from the walking a different path experience can be used by all of us. When the entire group was together walking down the street, even though we were all wearing wigs and behaving differently, there was some real camaraderie. It was a completely different experience than when we each had to approach a stranger with a wig on, by ourselves. And it is THAT lesson that I also really want to share here.
Because here is the thing: all of us, at some point in our lives, will do something unexpected. Or at least we will want to. It could be moving to a different city, choosing a different job, marrying someone that surprises your family, or choosing to get a divorce. Big things happen in our lives and we make choices that are off the path that others have expected of us. Will you make those choices? Or will you be too afraid to make those choices for yourself?
What we learned through the wig exercise was that when you do something truly unexpected - when you walk that different path - it is so much easier if you have people by your side. If you have a core group of people you can go to who will not only support you in your new and different path, but who will link arms with you, and symbolically put on a strange wig, and be willing to walk down that path arm in arm. We need those supporters who will love us no matter the path we choose, and especially when we are choosing something that surprises them. I encourage you to think really critically about who those people are for you. Write their names down. Reach out to them. Commit to supporting them and walking arm in arm with them when they will inevitably choose a path that you didn’t expect.
And another important lesson I learned over the years from this exercise. One year a member of our group had cerebral palsy. After full wig and path exercise, she provided context about her experience in life. She explained that the way we all felt walking around with a wig on and having people react to us with discomfort or fear was something she lived with - every day of her life. She said - while you all get to take the wig off now and go back out in the world without the experience of being so clearly different, just remember that I never get to “take the wig off” of my disability. I am always different, I am always isolated, people are rarely linking arms with me and walking the path that my life is on. Please remember that - and how you felt during this experience - when you encounter individuals who are differently abled.
It was such a powerful statement, one I carry with me every day. There are so many individuals who are walking different paths, with courage and grace and resilience and power, that we may not even see or recognize. I encourage you to be aware, to really see the courage that is happening all around you. There are people who are embarking on courageous journeys each day, who could use a word of encouragement or support.
And then, give yourself the same support. Identify your dreams and your wonder. Name the aspects of your childhood that brought you joy. Cultivate that joy by finding ways to bring it into your current role or career. And if you can’t do that at your job, look for it in other areas of your life. Give yourself permission to experience childlike wonder and joy.
Notice when you are drawn to walk a different path. Give yourself permission to think through what that path might look like. Cultivate the deep friendships - just a few. We’ve talked about Brene Brown’s idea of a “square squad” in prior episodes. Nurture your square squad. When you make up your mind to walk a different path, ask them for support. And when they walk their unexpected path, be there for them. Link arms, don the metaphorical wig with them, and let yourself feel the joy that young children exhibited when they saw grown adults walking down the street in strange wigs. Don’t turn away. Lean in to the experience. Embrace your difference and the many paths that still lay before you.
Thank you for joining us. We hope you enjoyed this episode. Please keep engaging by accessing our companion worksheet to this episode - located on our blog at www.connectioncollaborative.com.
We’d also love to hear from you. What did you want to be when you grew up? Are there aspects of that role that still resonate with you? What will you do about that moving forward? How can we help - we’re ready to link arms with you and help you walk your path. You can email me at annalisa@connectioncollaborative.com.
Next time, we’ll talk about what you believe, and what you will say yes and no to after completing this workshop series. I hope you’ll join us.