Three Goals and Left Turns

I was talking to a friend the other day and she asked me why I was running for office.   She wasn't looking for the sound-bite answer--she looking for introspection.  This is the role and purpose of good friends: to ask you questions that make you a little uncomfortable while providing a safe environment to explore questions that don't have simple or easy answers.

In answering her question, I started back in the beginning, when my life took a left-turn.  The first left turn was when my first daughter Ada died back in 1998.  I was never one to have a life plan that was laid out to the tiniest detail, but I had a general sense that I'd keep on the path that I was on.  I was working in consulting, learning how to manage, run projects, look at data and talk to people about things that were not making them happy.  It was interesting and challenging work, and I was thriving.  I worked with people I liked, who also liked and respected me.  

I was doing project work, which meant when the project was done, I would have to find something else to do.  I expressed this concern to my friend Julie from graduate school. She said, "If you do a good job on this project, the next one will follow.  Don't worry.  Projects will find you."  And she was right.  I learned to be content with a reasonable amount of uncertainty, but as long as I could develop my skills, I knew I could find work that I found interesting.  I worked with a leadership consultant, and she said she saw me one day working as a VP of Operations at a medium sized company.  I was slightly offended that she didn't see me as the president, but I figured that if I could be VP of Ops, then President could be around the corner.   

Then came another left turn.  Ada died and I had a miscarriage before I became pregnant with Claire Adele.  I was traveling three or four days a week, and Jack was working nights and weekends.  We had just moved to Saint Louis, where we had no family.  We would have needed overnight care, and that really wasn't feasible, both practically and emotionally.  We had a small apartment, with no place for an au pair to stay.  I also couldn't imagine how I could leave my baby with someone else while I traveled out of town.  

The third left turn came when my brother had a crisis with his schizophrenia.  I was laid grief stricken again for the second time in four years.

It was then I knew I wouldn't be returning to the traditional workforce.  I set three goals for myself at that point:

1.  Write a book

2.  Run for office

3.  Make a movie

Now I look at these goals, and ponder.  I've written two books, one about Ada and another about my brother, both of which are languishing unpublished.  Part of me doesn't want publish the book about my brother until my kids are older.  Even though only a handful of people read my books instead of hundreds, I wrote them nonetheless.

This makes me pause and think about my goals.  My second goal was to run for office, not win.  Why did I have the goal of "running" instead of "winning"?  Was I being a chicken or realistic?  Back then, I had no idea what office I might run for:  City Council?  State Rep?  US Congress?  Yes, I have fantasies about someday about being a US Senator.  I am lucky enough to live in a state where both of our Senate seats are held by women, which gives me hope.  

But that is not where I am today.  I've taken Julie's advice -- do a good job on one project and the next will follow.  Look for challenging and engaging work.

Running for office isn't only challenging and engaging, it is also meaningful.  I can make a difference in the lives of kids in Seattle.