There’s a common misperception in corporations that once in a while you need to put your job on the line. It’s all or nothing, do or die, winner takes all.
I’m not sure where it stems from. Maybe it’s all the sports analogies: the bottom of the ninth, game seven, a few seconds left in the fourth quarter. Or maybe it stems from something else. Maybe it’s a way to remove responsibility from every other day of the year.
Truth is, everyday you step in the office, every time you answer a client’s call or develop a strategy and objectives you’re putting your job on the line. Each day you have a responsibility to move the organization forward and each day you are up against forces that could lead to the company closing or contracting.
Some choose to be passive, to wait for the boss to decide, to hide behind what’s been done, to rehash old ideas. Others step up and take charge, choose themselves and push forward.
Regardless, they’re both putting their job on the line. Let’s not kid ourselves: there is no Stanley Cup, World Series or Super Bowl in business. It’s about relentless dedication, small steps, being generous and taking bold stands.
Each day we put our job on the line because there is no big prize, just the opportunity to see another day.
The thing about abundance is that it’s precisely that – plentiful, always available, never done. It’s easy to take abundance for granted, assume it will always be there. We might even realize it’s there and think it doesn’t matter.
But what happens when the abundance becomes scarce? What happens when the resources aren’t there, when the access and information leaves?
If it’s not until it’s gone that we miss it, will it be too late? Will we ever get it back?
The question then is, is it worth risking?
Ten or so years ago I worked at a manufacturing company in the east-end of Montreal. I took the job because I needed the money, not that it paid particularly well. I hated everything about the job and left after a year to work for a young dotcom.
When I left, you would think I’d be happy and excited. I was, but truth is I also felt a little sad. I hated the job, but liked most of my colleagues. I was sure I’d miss them.
Isn’t it interesting how wherever you work whether in a manufacturing plant or at Uber, it’s about the people.
Why isn’t it about the work? You rarely hear someone say “the work was fascinating and challenging and I left knowing I would miss that.” Colleagues are important but we are, after all, there to work.
Are we looking to fill job openings instead of looking for the right fit? Is work not keeping up with expectations? There’s a gap, a lost opportunity somewhere.