I’m one of those people who believes in signs.
I’m also one of those people who ignores the signs that don’t suit my mood or
my current agenda. I’m running late for an appointment and the ramp meter is on and there’s
a l-o-n-g line of cars in front of me? I completely ignore the “carpool lane
only” sign and I (illegally and impatiently) bypass the line by cheating my way
into the carpool lane. I sometimes pause instead of coming to a full and
complete stop. I turn on red when the sign explicitly says not to. And my
creative interpretation of signs doesn’t apply only to road signs. No, no –
there are also those other signs. You
know the ones. I’m talking about those signs from the universe or God or the
world or whatever you believe in that start out in a nice, quiet, subtle manner
that gradually get louder and louder until you pull your head out of your
backside and start paying attention.
Of course, you
don’t always know what the signs mean – and sometimes, it can be easier to do
what I do with road signs that don’t suit me by ascribing some other meaning to
them or ignoring them altogether. I became hyper-aware of signs 18 years ago in
2001, a year that reigned grief, loss and despair not just on me personally but
on our entire nation. September 11, 2001 set in motion a series of events that
would forever change the course of life both in the United States and around
the world. Nearly 3,000 innocent people were victims of this tragedy in New
York City; the Pentagon in Washington D.C.; and on a commercial airplane that
crashed in Shanksville, PA. From oil price increases to anti-Islamic violence in
the United States to the introduction of the Transportation Safety
Administration to changes in the global economy to ongoing military activity in
Iraq and Afghanistan – our world has changed in ways that we all remember. Am I
implying that 9/11 was a sign? No. But how many of us remember November 12,
2001?
American
Airlines flight 587 took off from New York’s JFK airport with 260 souls
onboard, heading for the Dominican Republic – but crashed in Queens, NY shortly
after takeoff, killing everyone on board in addition to five bystanders and a
dog on the ground. This event is marked in my memory forever for two reasons.
First, I was traveling from Madrid to Minneapolis with a connection through
JFK. Because this crash occurred just 61 days after 9/11, the United States
feared the worst and shut down air travel due to terrorist concerns. I spent
the night at the JFK
Best Western while we all tried to make sense of what was going on. But
that’s not the main reason I remember this so well. The reason AA flight 587
sticks in my memory is because of this bone-chilling story about Hilda Yolanda
Mayol.
Not only was
this the second-deadliest airplane crash in American history, but it occurred in
a neighborhood inhabited by World Trade Center employees and firefighters who
died in the attacks of September 11th. 26 year old Hilda Yolanda
Mayol was no exception. She was working in a restaurant on the ground floor of the
World Trade Center on 9/11. While she managed to escape before the tower
collapsed, she was killed in a plane crash just two months later while heading
on vacation to the Dominican Republic.
I’m not
suggesting that 9/11 was some kind of sign for people to avoid flying on
American Airlines or a sign to stay home and never go anywhere again. What
struck me about this story, however, was the tragedy of Hilda. After surviving
a horrific attack on 9/11 and trying to create a “new normal” for her life, she
had no idea that she had less than 62 days left to live. This made an indelible
impact on me. Although I was grief-stricken and numb with processing Nate’s suicide,
the death of Hilda Yolanda Mayol – a woman I’d never met or heard of prior – stuck
with me. And for me, it became a sign or a symbol. You can try to cheat death;
you can attempt to outrun your destiny; but when it’s your time, it’s your
time.
In spite of the
tremendous personal impact of this story, I eventually put Hilda out of my mind
and returned to business as usual – which in my case meant ignoring all kinds
of signs. One thing I’ve
learned is that if you ignore signs long enough, they just get louder and more
dramatic to get your attention. Some examples from my own life:
1. Mr. Wrong. (There’s an entirely different blog
devoted to this nonsense.) Hindsight and years of therapy illustrated all kinds
of subtle signs that Mr. Wrong and I were in fact wrong for each other. We
had no shared hobbies other than eating; we had no shared friends; and we had
vastly different and often opposing value systems. But hey, why not ignore all
those signs, dig in my heels and try to make it work until he stole my money
and my lawn mower and kicked me to the curb?
2. The
terrible job. In an effort to make things work with Mr. Wrong, I quit a job I
loved at a company I liked a lot because he was insecure. I took a job at a manufacturing
company where I was miserable beyond belief for several years. I resigned
myself to being miserable until one day, I got a phone call about a short-term
consulting gig in Denver, CO. It sounded amazing but I initially turned it down.
Three hours later, one of our employees was found dead in the men’s room. This
was a horrific tragedy that I unfortunately got hands-on experience with, and
somehow, that poor expired employee became the catalyst for me to make a
change. I accepted the consulting gig the next day.
3. The Dude’s cancer.
When I look back at pictures of The Dude in his final months, I can see now
with clear eyes how sick he was. His eyes are so sad, and he was so skinny.
Somehow, I missed all those signs and selfishly kept him alive maybe longer
than I should have because I couldn’t bear to say goodbye.
There are
plenty more examples but these are a few highlights. It can be so easy to
misread or ignore the signs. Maybe the signs are telling you something scary or
unpleasant – so you enlist your friends and family to help you craft a
fairytale with a happy ending. That horrible feeling you have at work every day
that you suck, your boss hates you, and you’re going to get fired? Oh, no –
that’s not a sign that your mental health may need some immediate attention.
And it’s not a sign that maybe you’re in the wrong job or the wrong company or
working for the wrong boss. Everything is great! So you take the bushels of
lemons that your job or your life is throwing at you and you open up a lemonade
factory that operates 24X7X365 – even though you actually don’t really like
lemonade.
Oh, wait a
minute. I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about me! Yes, friends – I have
been moonlighting as a lemonade producer for the past six months, and I have an
abundance of inventory. I told myself that those signs I saw were something
altogether different. I ignored the sudden phone calls I received from
recruiters, convinced that I was planted firmly in the right place in spite of
the increase in lemonade production. The signs started to get more dramatic and
more frequent, but I put my head down and continued to produce both lemonade
and some pretty high quality work outputs. My stress level on a scale of 1-10
was at a 432. My blood pressure was setting new hypertension records, even with
medication. I couldn’t sleep. I alternated between not eating much and eating
nonstop. My friends depression and anxiety popped by for an extended visit, and
yet I continued to ignore the signs.
Just like a
poorly placed road sign, I didn’t yield. I didn’t stop. I didn’t even pause.
And then, just like in the [probably not a classic] movie, Bruce Almighty, I was hit
with a truck full of signs. I could continue doing what I was doing and
slowly kill myself or according to male nurse Steve at my clinic, drop dead of
a stroke. Or I could answer those calls from recruiters and forge a different
path. I answered the phone. I interviewed. I had to become okay with walking
away from a really big important job at the 5th largest company in
the US in order to find myself and my own happiness. Most importantly, I had to
get a job!
I’d love to
tell you that I followed the signs and choreographed a beautiful and artistic
end to one chapter and beginning to the next one. But some of you have seen me
dance so you know better. What’s important is this . . . eventually, even my
closet optimist had to cease lemonade production and admit that I couldn’t find
my happiness where I was currently planted. There were some ugly moments and
some real ugly crying. I missed the signs, perhaps deliberately, perhaps not. I
let Hilda down. I let myself down.
After a short
break in the action, this chapter has come to an end. I start a new chapter and
a new job at a new company in just a few days. All the signs point to this
being the right next thing.
