5 mistakes I make in my job and what usually helps me get out of them (quite often)
In the last two years, I've taken hold of the threads of what I've always believed to be my job. I don't know whether it is or isn't my dream job, whether I'm as skilled and intuitive as I think, whether I have all the necessary degrees, or whether everything I say and do is right. What I do know is that when I talk to someone about my job or related topics, when I embark on a consulting journey with someone or prepare a workshop, everything changes.
My tone of voice changes, deeper and slower. My focus changes; I can't see anything else. My sense of self changes; I don't feel confused or uncertain. It's as if something invisible is guiding me in listening to and embracing the other person. My way of listening and responding changes. My ability to access memories changes. There are days when my mind is so muddled, caught up in to-do lists, that I forget pieces and think, "I'm getting old!" When I'm engaged in counseling, I recall quotes, approaches, lists, and work method acronyms. I invent games and frameworks. I don't always feel at ease; I make mistakes, need to recalibrate, but I never feel wrong. Not in that moment. When I reflect, when I have to create videos or "marketing" articles about my work, that's when confidence wanes. Wait, I haven't read all the countless books on the subject.
In this journey of reclamation, I'm learning that I have limits, and this isn't a shortcoming but a reality to accept. I can do this, I can learn this, I need to delegate this to someone more experienced. I'm learning that when I reach my limit, I can ask for help..
I'm learning that time is precious, and I'm learning to prioritize, and among those priorities is also rest and time for myself.
I'm learning that getting fixated on an idea isn't a good idea itself. Instead, I can reshuffle the cards to redesign something more conducive to my goals. I'm learning that I can make mistakes and that I can learn from them. I accept the error. Well, sort of. Wait, let me rephrase: I inwardly grumble, argue in my head, and metaphorically beat myself up. Then, even though I keep "ruminating" about it, I seek a solution or an alternative path to reach where I wanted.
The other day, I sent an email asking for advice: you know, I had this idea. In the response, the person pointed out the fallacy of my idea, highlighting practical aspects that might not make it work.
Oh yes, I thought. This is criticism. And I went off. So, we don't understand each other, the person doesn't get me, so I might as well throw my work out the window, etc. You can imagine the whirlwind of absurd thoughts and emotions I found myself in.
Why did I feel so stung? Why do we get scared when someone offers us criticism, well-argued and all? Why do we curl up defensively or dismiss the person?
Sometimes, a new perspective shows us a potential mistake. Change itself is already challenging, and if I then hear someone telling me that I'm making a mistake, a series of protective mechanisms are triggered. It's understandable. It's normal.
But a profound change entails mistakes, particularly when we carry burdens that hinder us from viewing things from fresh perspectives.
Moving abroad. If I bring along my usual mental patterns, biases, and expectations (like, why is it that when I eat pizza in the Netherlands, it's not like Mario's pizza back home?), I will have merely changed my address without truly experiencing it as a genuine shift in perspective.
Critique and criticisms, when well-argued, can help us see things from a perspective different from our own. In my case, regarding the email with that idea, it helped me to focus on certain mistakes I make and am trying to rectify!
I started my podcast project about two years ago, but I wasn't part of an association, nor had I ever met (except through the web) other people with podcasting experience. I wanted some technical confirmation about my work, so I decided to seek consultation, partly just to pay someone to tell me how great I am. That was the first mistake. I talked to you about cognitive biases in one of the episodes, the confirmation bias, where we look for someone or a group that thinks like us on a certain topic, validating our thoughts. It gives us a sense of security. During the consultation, I realized I needed practical feedback, not confirmation. So, the first mistake is confusing what you want with what you actually need. I wanted confirmation, but my intuition led me to seek someone who instead encouraged me to introspect.
Well, but I'll just do as I please. Second mistake. The project is mine, the work is mine, that's true, but I wander through the fields of creativity instead of thinking from a practical, business-oriented perspective, and most importantly, seeing what the listeners are seeking on the other side. The second mistake is having a narrow perspective, a limited vision of your own work.
My idea is right, mistake three, and I don't want to change it, mistake four. Let's go step by step. Sometimes I fall in love with an idea. Maybe it's genuinely good. But what's its purpose?
Is it a work and business idea? it's aimed at something. There are both personal goals – where I establish what I want to achieve (I've written mine down in a note that stays on my computer desktop, and I occasionally reread them) – and goals related to potential clients (who are they, what might they need?). Does my idea address what I want to achieve? Does it address the needs of my clients? The third mistake is not considering the purpose of our project, our work.
The fourth mistake I don't want to change: in my process of change, I remain rigid in my positions. At what cost? There's a famous saying that goes, "If you keep doing the same things, you'll get the same results." It means that if we change even just one thing about what we're doing, we'll have a different result.
Mistake number five: mistaking the means for the end. The podcast started as a project on its own. I wanted to share what I had learned over the years. Then, however, I myself felt that it was a way to connect with people. At a certain point, it became clear to me – and I realized this through criticisms – that I had two options in front of me: one was to keep it as a hobby and accept the relative results. The other was to see it for what it could be, a means.
And what do you do with means? Bicycles, buses, trains, etc. – you go from one point to another. You enjoy the journey, even the bumpier parts, while thinking about what it will be like when you reach your destination, what you'll do, etc. Then, once you reach the chosen destination, you get off.
Strategies
What helps me in this chaotic mix of information, ideas, and emotions?
Here are a few strategies I try to use to minimize mistakes or find better alternatives that work.
1. The first is simplification or subtraction. Coming from me, it might sound a bit strong. It's a golden rule, I've discovered, even in writing. Without that aside, without the text in parentheses, would the conversation flow the same way? Try to think about a work project. Lost among many puzzle pieces, through simplification or subtraction, what would you want to keep? Which are the important ones because they reflect your values, your way of working, you enjoy doing that stuff, even with some difficulty, with a bit of "healthy" anxiety? Out of all those pieces, what can you think of focusing on next?
2. Another strategy that helps me is changing my approach to mistakes. If we set aside biases and judgments towards others and ourselves, we might try to look at our work from an external perspective. That's what those who are criticizing us are trying to do. Putting ourselves in someone else's shoes to look at ourselves can be a good exercise. For instance: have you ever tried to look at your website, Instagram page, etc., from the perspective of your potential customer? What would you expect to find? What do you actually find?
3. An exercise that's challenging but incredibly useful, albeit requiring a lot of practice, is "Chew and Spit."
This rule is one of those golden ones... What does it mean? From what others are telling me, I choose what can serve me and what I can leave aside. In other words, criticism is still the thoughts and opinions of others. I take what I need and let the rest slide, just like in meditation. In "Eat Pray and Love," a friend of the protagonist encourages her to choose thoughts like she does with clothes. With care and thinking about what can truly be useful.
Before wrapping up, a brief reflection on something that, when we work on our own projects, is entirely personal and subjective, and isn't subject to criticism.
Intuition, that spark, the thing that sustains us in dark moments, that thing which is absolutely clear to us even when we don't know where to begin – it's not "verifiable". It's also risky and inexplicable, but it's there within us.
What's your spark, and how do you decide to nourish it?
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