When Perfectly Good Could Be Better

A couple of months ago, my family and I went skydiving. There’s a longstanding joke which usually comes in the form of a question to anyone who skydives. That is, “Why would anyone jump out of a perfectly good airplane?” There are two potential answers:

A. I’ve always been curious about it and I’m feeling adventurous, or

B. I was pushed…

But what if your “airplane” is your current employer?  Perhaps you’ve been cruising 3 miles above the terra firma for a while now. Sure, the leg room’s not great and the inflight magazine is a bit worn at the corners, but there are perks! At times you've even reclined the seat a little, thinking about other planes you could hop aboard. That thinking is especially easy when occasional turbulence hits. However, as the plane settles back into the jet stream and the gasps of fellow passengers subside, it’s easy to abandon any thoughts of strapping on a pack and jumping out.

The thing that surprised me about skydiving is the phasing of the experience. The first phase is the creep toward the exit and a realization that you are about to leave the airplane. It’s loud and intimidating as you inch your way toward the open door. But no matter how loud it gets, you can still hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your adrenaline begins to flow as you realize that you are about to commit to something new. But the excitement only intensifies as you enter the second phase of the experience: the jump (queue 1984 Van Halen). I’m told that one freefalls at a terminal velocity of 125 miles per hour when arms and feet are fully extended. At 16,000 feet and falling nearly 200 feet per second the wind is cold, even on the warmest summer day. While falling, your face looks and feels like someone is sticking a leaf blower at full-throttle in your mouth. While gravity dictates that you can’t control the vertical pull (studies demonstrate that you are going to hit the earth), you do have some control on the horizontal aspects of the freefall. Your arms and hands can act as sort of flaps, allowing you to slow or glide as necessary toward your destination. However, full control doesn’t happen until you enter your third stage of this awkward experience: the parachute.

Parachutes have come a long way since the days of my youth. But in fairness, the only parachute experience I had as a child involved the one on my GI Joe Action figure, with Kung-Foo grip. His parachute, while attractive enough, had a rather poor deployment rate and was probably better suited as a battlefield picnic blanket. That aside, parachutes today are remarkably effective at keeping you alive, and once fully deployed you can accurately steer yourself toward a destination. Once the chute opens, the intense noise and battering by the wind stops. The roar is replaced with a gentle breeze and the soft flap of the nylon above you. It’s incredibly peaceful and allows you for the first time in the experience to take it all in, and I daresay, enjoy some of the scenery. 

But this is a LinkedIn article and not a John Irving novel, so let me wrap this up. No matter if you elect to leave your company or were pushed out an open door, there will be phases in your experience. Your heart may pound at the prospect of change and feelings can be intense as you search for control of the situation. Some have the luxury of stepping from one plane directly to the next. But for those that don’t, there is a parachute that can be deployed allowing you to gain perspective and perhaps even some enjoyment in the process. After all, your chute is double-stitched with experience, your personalized skill-set and everything that makes you unique and valuable to a future employer. For you to get the most out of this experience you must keep in mind that your value, both personal and professional, did not magically dissolve as you exited the door. In fact, the skills and experience you hold may be of even greater value in another setting. In this third and calmer phase of the jump, take some time to look around and review the world below. You’ve got some choices to make as you survey the patchworked landscape. You can steer toward the familiar brush of your training and experience or explore some altogether different grasslands. While a certain thoughtfulness is needed in where and how you will land, take comfort in knowing that many have gone successfully before you. Don’t miss an opportunity to speak with others regarding their own “career skydive” experiences. You’ll find that those stories are often happy ones in the end, with very few crash-landings as I witnessed with my camouflaged man-doll of so long ago.

Many of us have jumped (or are in the process of jumping) out of literal or figurative airplanes. Reasons for it are not nearly as important as the response and attitude throughout the journey. By keeping a positive outlook and keen knowledge of your value, you can cycle through those chaotic early phases, pull the rip cord and begin a genuine search. Only then can you best begin surveying your landing options, which is of course is the 4th and final phase in this challenge.  Each person’s experience is different, and it could take some time to find the right fit. But from up here I can already see more planes, engines running, looking for qualified passengers. And no doubt the right one’s down there waiting, potentially with better seats, more leg room and a fresh inflight magazine.

Alan Green