Guest blog: The Ones Left Behind

A new, thoughtful perspective, from a friend who has just taken redundancy - he writes his own blog at One Small Thing which is well worth checking out - writing is certainly amongst his many talents.

There are things that you know to expect when you are made redundant – or at least, things that you’ve been told to expect. About the process of adjusting to not working, and not having an income. But there are also things that you don’t really expect. For example…

One of the principal things I’ve felt during the lead-up to redundancy is concern for my colleagues. Not the ones that are leaving with me, although obviously I do, but more unexpectedly for the ones that are staying.

The thing is, these are people that I have worked with for a number of years, people I’ve grown fond of. And the workplace I’m leaving behind is not going to be a very nice place to be in the near future. There are going to be a lot less people doing the work, but the expectations of the customers are not going to be lowered.

We’ve tried, those of us going, to train up the survivors as best we can, but it’s not easy when management won’t decide on the type of service that they want. Not that there would be enough time to do it properly in any case. So there’s a gap – between what the customer wants, and what the re-shaped service will be able to provide.

And of course, it’s the staff who will bear the brunt of it – the moans and the complaints – at the same time as trying to cope with a massively increased workload and a lot of new tasks that they haven’t been adequately prepared for.

To be honest, towards the end I was thinking that I was one of the lucky ones – despite the lack of income and the uncertain future. And that’s something I really wasn’t expecting.

Do the thing you think you cannot do

I have been a little reluctant to blog over the last couple of weeks, due basically to discouragement setting in. But I know from reading my favourite career change blogs and articles that discouragement is part and parcel of the process. It's a scary thing to do, to leave what you know, and what you know you're good at. And for me, the temptation right now to run straight back to the work environment that was making me miserable, is at times overwhelming. And maybe that's ok. A bit of comfort and familiarity, and getting paid for it too? Or will it feel like a step back? Is it giving up? Already?

I guess the truth is, career changes don't happen in one big leap, at least not for most of us. A recent article on Careershifters advocates staged career shifts, e.g. going part time in your current job, while gaining relevant experience in your chosen new field in your time off - less scary, less risky. It wasn't the right choice for me but I can see the sense in it for others. So I may seek casual work in my old profession, and will choose to see it as a means to an end, if it pays for my voluntary work then that justifies it, and if I don't see it as a step back, then it doesn't matter if others think of it that way.

I also remembered the other day, reading a tip several years ago - while still barely dipping a metaphorical toe in the career change pool - that changing career would involve you having to do things you didn't think you could do, and so to start practicing in little ways. It makes sense if, like me, you stay too long in a job because you think: well, I know I can make a success of this, whereas if I try to do something else I might fail, so I won't try. An example for me right now is: fundraising, me? I can't ask people for money. I'm not wired up like that. This career change guru (if I find your name, I will give you credit, I promise!) said, start with one thing you don't think you can do, and then - simply - do it. Her example was exercise - like me, she hated it, and unlike me, got up every day and went running and made it part of her life; and started to think of herself differently. I experienced that this week, as I finally got to a yoga class; I thought I would hate it, feared I'd be the only one unable to do the stretches, and secretly hoped I'd love it. I liked it. I want to go back. I'm thinking of myself differently. And it makes me wonder what else I can do.

So, tell me: what is your 'thing you think you cannot do', and are you going to try it? If you do, let me know how it goes!