How do you view the impermanence of work?

I’ve been thinking a lot about impermanence lately, ever since I stepped away from full-time work a couple weeks back.?Because I spent so many of my prime working years as an artist, I knew two things: one, I needed to extend my runway of corporate life as long as possible; and two, this would all end at some point. My current situation is, I hope, not the end, but it is the end of something, and with luck the beginning of something else.

That concept of things changing and things ending carves the minds of a lot of people in corporate life. We see it all the time when people quit or are fired, when we restructure roles and organizations, and when a new leader with new ideas and new ways of doing things steps in. People tend to freak a little and sometimes a lot when this happens. The status quo, which, when pressed, most would acknowledge is usually less than amazing, suddenly becomes something to be ferociously protected when change is introduced. This probably has natural origins. Change inherently introduces risk, which in turn can lead to vulnerabilities if we don’t adjust. No one should be surprised that mental catastrophizing is the most common response to change in the workplace.

Is there a way to better handle this inherent impermanence?

If you read my post announcing that I’m stepping away for a bit, you’ll know I’ve gotten this far without a plan and that I extol the virtues of living in the present. That sounds great on paper, but if you’re trying to plan a career, focusing only on the present is admittedly difficult. It comes down to your mindset about work, and probably how you approach life, too.

Alison Gadsby (writer and also my wife) describes two types of paths people tend to take in work and in life: the corridor and the matrix. People who take the corridor move in a straight line, work at places for a long time, move up the ladder, buy a house, have their kids, take their vacations and retire on schedule. Nothing wrong with that. I’ve got lots of people in my life who have taken this path. The other path is not really a path at all. A matrix journey has you jumping all over the place. My journey has been a little like that. I’ve had a lot of different gigs, and at different points have made some fundamental transformations. It is a working existence predicated on change and impermanence and by necessity rooted in the present. It’s the only way to go if you have no plan.

I don’t always recommend it. There are times I wish I’d adopted a corridor approach. Just as I’m sure there are times people on a corridor path wish they lived more of a matrix existence. The trouble is, it’s hard and maybe impossible to choose an approach that isn’t aligned with how you’re wired, and still feel comfortable. You probably shouldn’t fight it.

However, regardless of which path you’re on, it does probably help to have a little bit of the other to make the journey work. I won’t deny that between those moments of fundamental transformation, I’ve always carried around a rough plan in my head. But my plan was never so fixed that it forcefully guided my choices. I’ve known since my brother died at 37, and when I left my first marriage like I was being pulled away by a tractor beam, that stuff happens; stuff that’s out of your control. Work can be like that, too, which makes a pretty good argument for stepping out of the corridor. But the opposite is also true: corridor thinking at least encourages you to take control of whatever parts of your journey you can.

Of course, no one, no matter how you approach things, can ignore the ultimate fact of impermanence: Working life (and life itself) is gonna end for all of us at some point – planned or unplanned. Those in the corridor may need to accept their line wasn’t quite as straight as they’d planned. And matrix wanderers might look back and wonder if a plan might have made things different, maybe better.

But rather than looking back when it’s over, why not ask yourself a few questions now? Questions like, how do I typically react when something unplanned happens? And am I going to be ok when things don’t turn out exactly as planned? Or if you’re on a matrix journey, could there be any benefit to making my journey just a little less random? And should I install at least some guideposts? Your answers might not change anything, but the questions are worth asking while you’re still taking the steps.

Let me know which path you’re most comfortable with, and how it’s working out for you.