Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.
— Oscar Wilde.
This is the first post on my new blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates.
Starting a career at 40
Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.
— Oscar Wilde.
This is the first post on my new blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates.
When my marriage exploded, I began attending a support group. One of the things we were challenged to report to the group each session is how we tapped into things that gave us passion. It was this challenge that began my exploration of history. I read books and articles on the topic, and watched documentaries. I started checking the job board for my state’s historical society. I applied for a couple positions, and received a call back for one at a historical farm which does living history exhibits and programming around agriculture.
This commenced my dream job. It combined physical work with intellectual, independent work with collaborative, and think-on-your-feet educational programming for visitors. On top of that, my fellow farmers were great people. Every one of them was a pleasure to talk to and learn from.
After 4 years at my dream job, my divorce agreement nudged me to pursue full-time, year round employment, a situation which was not available at the farm. Now my job search seeks to answer “is there another dream job out there for me?” How can I replicate the things about the farm I enjoyed so much in a career?
Circumstances have forced me to find my professional self later in life than I would like. Raised by old fashioned, conservative parents, who structured the household according to Cleaver-like gender roles, my mission in life was to grow up and become a supportive wife and mom. I was encouraged to go to college and get an education, but “what I wanted to be when I grew up” was a foregone conclusion. Now I ask myself, what if I had been encouraged to explore that question in the context of my own personality and interests? Would that have helped me accelerate the situation I find myself in now?
I followed the path set out for me, marrying fairly young, quitting my job outside the home when my first child was born, and staying home with my kids for the next 8 years.
Marriage problems culminating in divorce blew my world apart. I committed to transition back to full-time work when my youngest started school, and thus began the “road not taken” I find myself on now.
This is an example post, originally published as part of Blogging University. Enroll in one of our ten programs, and start your blog right.
You’re going to publish a post today. Don’t worry about how your blog looks. Don’t worry if you haven’t given it a name yet, or you’re feeling overwhelmed. Just click the “New Post” button, and tell us why you’re here.
Why do this?
The post can be short or long, a personal intro to your life or a bloggy mission statement, a manifesto for the future or a simple outline of your the types of things you hope to publish.
To help you get started, here are a few questions:
You’re not locked into any of this; one of the wonderful things about blogs is how they constantly evolve as we learn, grow, and interact with one another — but it’s good to know where and why you started, and articulating your goals may just give you a few other post ideas.
Can’t think how to get started? Just write the first thing that pops into your head. Anne Lamott, author of a book on writing we love, says that you need to give yourself permission to write a “crappy first draft”. Anne makes a great point — just start writing, and worry about editing it later.
When you’re ready to publish, give your post three to five tags that describe your blog’s focus — writing, photography, fiction, parenting, food, cars, movies, sports, whatever. These tags will help others who care about your topics find you in the Reader. Make sure one of the tags is “zerotohero,” so other new bloggers can find you, too.