How to Pivot (and Keep Pivoting)
We've heard this before; workers and employees are smart to pivot during lean times and tough markets. And a pivot isn't a new career leaf, it's a well-thought-out realignment of your skills and experiences. It's the discovery of talents you forgot you had and the knowledge you thought everyone knew.
A pivot doesn't have to be one thing. It can address multiple needs. And it doesn't have to be a job. It can be creative work, activism, and/or mentorship. It can be soul work.
Why your pivot should include soul work
This isn't a typical market, and we all know it. Our souls feel it. Everyone's skills are up for mechanization, companies look to do more with less, and the workers are left feeling like sweaty, tap-dancing seals getting ready for the big move that most employers are too warped or overwhelmed to see.
And I don't know about you, but I've largely stopped applying to jobs unless it's something that someone recommends to me that fits me. It needs to sound different than, oh I don't know, the mind-numbing AI slop and obvious data grab that people call job applications these days. I've had a few people inform me I should be applying to director level jobs, but that only means the right fit is even more important to me. That and I work better when I'm remote with my dog imprinted into my leg.
Some days, I can't fight off my bitterness. I spiral on how I'm supposed to be at the peak of my career and sought out, saying yes to things and no to a lot more. But someone has created tools that sound like me, work faster, and jack off the ego while doing so. (Wait, was I actually the one doing that before?)
So what can any of us do to ward off bitterness? How does one do work that includes the soul?
For me, soul work has meant leaning into my interests, which have led to new things that aren't exactly the most profitable, but they're more freeing, community-based, and conducive to my preferred lifestyle. Most people would probably look at my choices and see them as a downshift given the cost of existing.
Others are shaking their heads at my disinterest in procreating and bringing a child into a world of tech feudalism and authoritarian leadership.
I'm not disappointed in myself. The opposite, actually. And in the end, how you feel about yourself is what matters.
All I ever wanted to do was lead out on creative projects and bring others with me. I don't dream about power; I dream about the freedom of doing and inspiring.
I understand and respect processes, shifts, and reboots. I'm a trained writer and editor, so I welcome criticism and accept failure. But I'm not a gambler. I will not jeopardize my credit, sanity, and relationships for a chance to "win big" in an economy as reckless, aimless, and predatory as the one we're in right now. I deserve accountability, and so do you.
However, like a lot of high performers pushed out of the job market, I've found my way into the world of freelancing. I know what feast and famine feels like. The famine is painful and humiliating, but I will no longer crawl into a ball of myself whenever the work dries up. If you are there, I'm so sorry. But you can get out. Do what you need to get out. For me that was community, art, medication, and a touch of talk therapy.
Yes, it's great to get paid. But that's not always the way the world works, especially when the wealthiest people seem set on pile driving the labor force into the ground. But there are other things you can do that fill your soul and might just lead to another role.
Here are some ideas for soul work you can do between your next role (or just in general).
Get some work in an interesting industry
Some caveats before I start foaming at the mouth about my stable, interesting gig: my wonderful friend got me this job because I was putting myself out there and was available for work outside my wheelhouse. And I wouldn't recommend a job like this unless you have another one and/or live on more than one income.
The interesting industry is academic publishing, which isn't totally weird for me, because I've worked in some kind of publishing for most of my life. But it's the first time I have worked on the compliance side versus the creative side of content. As a contract copyright specialist, I get to annoy authors and publishers like Penguin Random House for a few hours every day, properly handle classic and new literature, negotiate pricing, and low-key find new reads.
I like this gig because it's consistent work, it pays for things like my car, phone, and school loans. Also, it scratches some itch in me to protect authors' and writers' work and get them paid. And I admit, it's pretty sweet when my partner finds a signed copy of a permission request to the estate of Robert Frost in his printer.
I know it feels cringe to put yourself out there, but doing it can get you seen by the right person with a cool opportunity. Reaching out to old connections is worthwhile even if it doesn't lead to anything more to being seen and heard. You never know what kind of work someone has for you now or down the line.
Work on that long-term creative project
Having an anchor contract and supplemental paid work that comes and goes frees me up to chip away at my own creative work, that being a novel. Instead of wasting your time finding the perfect version of the 50 resumes you have on hand to send to the employer getting 1,000 applications a day, now is the time to work on that long-term creative project you've been hoarding or dreaming about.
Pick up your guitar that's collecting dust and start a garage band with someone who's still scratching their balls wondering what's on the streaming apps. Pick up painting and develop a style. Finish the graphic novel you've been talking about for years.
I'm about two years into a novel, and holy shit, I can't wait to be done with the first draft. I'm about 65,000 words in, and I can see the ending and the light. I can do hard things, and hard things are good for me.
It's a timely topic; it has angsty, complicated characters who will appeal to young adults everywhere; and it's hard to put down. I can't wait to share it.
Is this a shameless plug for my upcoming novel? Yes, you caught me. But it's also your wake up call that this world is not slowing down for you and to not give up on your dreams even when you hit slow periods--especially when you hit slow periods.
Join a group of people with shared interests
Doing creative work can be isolating, especially when you have the sort of brain that tries to convince you it's not worth doing, and you should be grinding for cash or eyeballing your next investment. Reaching out to others who can help you slap down the critic and turn it into constructive, positive feedback (for yourself and others), can be the motivation you need to make your ideas real.
For me that was two different writing groups (not at once) and a reading group. I found the first writing group on TikTok. The genres were mixed, but it was predominately full of Bi+ indie authors, a community I had been needing. For a few months, I exchanged feedback with a group of zany, hard-working, detail-oriented bookworms. While everyone had their own opinions, what I found most helpful were the patterns between feedback. When more than one person is individually telling you something, you should probably listen to their collective interpretation.
Another friend of mine reached out to me about starting a writing group focusing on topics and genres that are more in line to what I write. She used to work as a managing editor at a previous job with me and was looking for a way to exercise her soul. For her that meant blogging about relationships and nature. For me, that meant sharing my novel (in small, manageable bites) with more people. She asked one of her friends to join and I asked one of mine, and BAM, we had a supportive accountability group that met once a month over Zoom.
Both of these groups gave me the courage and feedback I was looking for in my beginning character and plot work. And I equally enjoyed seeing them, reading them, and hearing about their lives.
Finally, I joined a silent reading group! We meet once a month in Detroit at a friend's coworking space. It's a space where a bunch of smart people can sit quietly and thoughtfully together, swap reads, and nerd out over big ideas.
The point of that matter is, join a group, support people in your scene, and get the support you deserve.
Make something to sell in a local show
More book talk, Sarah? I know. I promise to make it quick and relevant to you.
During my first layoff, I kicked around a collection of stories that I didn't realize was a book. Then I published it. Then I moved to a new town and thought, what better way to get to know my community than to share my first soul project with them?
So I started selling my book at local art shows. What's cool about selling your creations at local art shows, is not only are you making grocery store money, but you're building confidence in your work and personhood.
And you get direct access to people who vibe with your shit, and it can feel more personal than a faceless online exchange. Metrics are fine, but I tend to get stir crazy staring at them all the time.
Not to mention, you're supporting your local community and get to find out just how wacky everyone is. I got to meet a lot of incredible artists who have expanded my perspective. Cough, and I may have even joined an art collective at one of these shows. I SWEAR THIS IS THE LAST PLUG, BUT PLEASE CHECK OUT BROKEN AMERICANA'S MOSAICS.
You don't have to sell art to contribute to the local economy. It could be hand lotion, dog treats, vegan desserts, lawn dressing. I mean come on, everyone loves a good lawn gnome.
Volunteer (no more screaming into the void)
Okay, maybe screaming a little bit is fine. I sure as hell do it. But I can get tired listening to myself squawk.
I try to have at least one volunteer opportunity going during the year, and I usually volunteer when I'm feeling pissed about something. When I was mad about the lack of respect towards the environment, I helped plant trees in the city. I even named a tree "Yoshi." Ps. I'm telling you, if you ever want to be one with nature, plant a tree, man.
Most recently, I was mad about data centers and the lack of oversight and community input combined with my valid fears of increased costs, environmental harm, and job loss. So what did I do? Well, I bitched online, of course. But after I got tired of that, I joined a group of concerned voters who led a ballot initiative to limit dark money and lobbying in the next election cycle, talked with my community, and secured signatures from fellow Michiganders.
Beyond being a good outlet for your soul, volunteering can also help you try new things and give you a taste of a new career. Maybe you're actually a horticulturalist and you didn't know it. Maybe you're amazing with teens. Maybe you want to start a dog training school. You won't know until you try.
Though I've had a suspicion for some time that I might be a decent teacher, I've been avoiding teaching like the plague. Mostly because I know how hard it is to be a teacher and how thankless it can be. That and having to be "on" all day while holding in my farts sounds like my personal hell.
Now a weekly or monthly workshop, I can do. I recently taught a few writing workshops on craft that were life-giving. I've been going to workshops and art classes for years, never realizing that I could teach one. I didn't combust; I did surprisingly well on my first workshop on flash fiction. I even had three repeat writers show up the next one on writing believable dialogue.
The trick to teaching is being honest about what you know while establishing your authority, close listening, and connecting dots between group discussion points.
Hell, I'm just happy I get to open up all and use the books I've been hoarding over the years again. I was starting to feel like a pretentious jerk who doesn't want to share the goods.
What to teach depends on what you know a lot about and what excites you. Then all you need to do is structure it with definitions, examples, discussion questions, and hands-on experience. Maybe go through it with a family member or friend before the workshop.
Where to teach? Well, I understand that we live in the age of endless online tutorials and digital courses, but there's a loneliness epidemic, folks. Plus, there is something about teaching in person. For me, I remember the experience more. Your local library, art or recreation center, co-working space, or community garden is waiting for you and your ideas.
Pivots are part of the economy. If you're recently laid off, looking to get back into the workforce, or are waiting your turn to join this insane market for the first time, just know you are not alone in feeling frustrated, rejected, and confused. Your career is not screwed, and you're not dead yet.
The world still needs you. I for one want to see you shine at what you like and where you can make a difference.
If this post resonated with you, I'd love for you to subscribe to my blog. And if you need advice or support on your next creative move, don't hesitate to reach out!
Source: How to Pivot (and Keep Pivoting)
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