So, what do you do?

There is so much jam packed into this question.  The English language, or any language for that matter, is limited in its ability to fully express intention.  Simple questions such as this can hold so much meaning for the individual asking as well as the person being asked.  

"What do you do?" could just as easily mean:

What do you do for a living? or
Who are you? or
Can I trust you? or
Am I safe with you? or
What do you want from me? or
How can I benefit from knowing you?

The work that I do in my (ahem, "career") is fundamentally based in connection. In cultivating experiences. In understanding human behaviors, human motivators and emotional responses. In removing obstacles in how we communicate important information. In networking, in integrating systems and looking for better ways of transacting. In deep linking, relating,  leading, team building and encouraging collective thought and collaboration. Yet, the irony of me is that I have always struggled with human connection, and for a good part of my young adult life I think probably empathy too. This was not because I was necessarily a narcissist but because I lacked practice and practical experience. This was because intense trauma and abuse conditions you to learn a type of survival that does not require connection. In fact, in trauma survivors, connection equals danger in all forms: physical, emotional and spiritual. So, for many, many years, this question: "What do you do?" caused me extreme discomfort (along with a laundry list of other triggers if I am being honest). At one point in my life, I could happily and comfortably give a speech to a room of hundreds of people while at the same time experience a panic attack ahead of a networking event or a cocktail hour. Was I incapable of intimacy? Certainly not. But only after a thorough vetting process had taken place.  

And yet, when I am asked what I do, I am still uncomfortable answering the question. I know I am so much more than a job or a title.  The need to be seen is real.  The need to be authentic and whole and confident in that whole is scary.  I suspect I at 43 years of age, I am not alone in this.

I have created LLCs only to let them expire. I have created websites to display my artwork only to let them lapse and lose the domain names. I have written for myself, painted for myself, internalized and allowed every opportunity to share, wither on the vine it grew from. In a recent conversation with my husband I gave birth to the notion of Buddhist in the Boardroom. The idea that a spiritual being living in a cave somewhere in Tibet, meditating all day long, with no spouse, job, children, or daily struggle has it easy! Wouldn't the world be a better place if there was space for spiritual thought to be expressed and applied in all areas of society, especially the nooks and crannies we describe in the most cynical terms? When we give ourselves permission to be all of it. When we let go of the expectation that we need to "Choose a title" and integrate all of it into our existence, we create space for personal alchemy to occur.

So, I am going to share my story.  God willing, maybe my experience will help someone else to have faith that there is no title, no label, no words that anyone else can ever use to describe you that you are required to believe.  Fuck anyone who tries to define you. The pressure of appearing perfect or living up to a title or label regardless of who assigns it (including if we self-assign) is an absurd and unnecessary energy suck. We are, after all, here to experience being human. It doesn't matter if you are five years old or fifty-five years old - you get to choose, and choose again and again who you are and what you do with your life. Whatever that looks like, it is enough.  You are enough.