A Bowl Of Water

One night after a stressful week of work, I called home. I can’t remember now what had me so worked up but I’ll never forget what my parents told me. 

“Your job is like a bowl of water – you can put your hand in it and splash around – but at the end of it all, it’ll be a bowl of water with or without you.” 

As someone who feels called to create change, I struggle with this concept and have to constantly remind myself there’s a vast difference between my job and my work. But I don’t think I really understood what they were saying until now. 

After 25 years my mom was laid off. A 10 minute meeting and everything she had worked for was over. Evaporated as quickly as an office could be cleaned out and a computer wiped. She was hurt and scared and likely embarrassed. But like always, my mom handled it with a stoic grace our family has come to rely on. 

When I got the call, it hit me like a punch in the gut. 

I am probably equal parts my parents. My Dad is evident as I process this through writing. But my spirit, the kind that allows me to take up space in my career – that’s from my Mom. She wasn’t born in the generation of women being told they could do anything. But after she put my Dad through college and my sister and I through diapers – she found an opportunity to blaze a new trail for herself. And she took it. 

She built a business and a brand, a name and an expertise that people grew to trust. All of those years she wasn’t just getting by, she was paying attention. She was building knowledge that she’ll never have the piece of paper to prove, but anyone who knows her would never question. 

And now it’s gone. 

The hardest part of having something taken away is the helplessness it leaves in its wake. The lack of agency you knew was always there blind sides you. A career, that should have ended with a glittering send off of her choosing, was ripped away. But another lesson my parents have always taught us, not through words but through action, is living. My parents live their life. That may seem obvious but so many of us are going through the motions while they’re carrying around sparklers.

My mom was excellent at her job. But she is even better at being “Ne” to her grandsons, doctor to her nieces and nephews, wife, sister, friend. She’s the kind of mom you always call. Her legacy has roots. 

So as I search for the meaning in all of this, one thing became clear – it doesn’t matter how valuable you are, in business, you’re always disposable. So don’t forget to live. Don’t forget to pour as much into the people around you as you do to a job that will no doubt have an end.