Grief in the Workplace
Trying to work when you're brain is somewhere else
Sometimes a work coffee isn’t just for work.
I’ve been spending a lot of time reconnecting with folks over breakfasts, coffees and happy hours, partly to catch up and partly as a semi-structured effort to get clarity about what, if anything, I should be doing with my career. The teams at Good Day Cafe and Hope Breakfast Bar are starting to recognize me and my weird breakfast orders.
The career stuff is still cloudy, but I’m loving this limbo-like mode and the conversations that I get to be part of. Most of my meetings are with folks who are either committed to working Indy or are on the client side, looking for a chance to jump. There’s a ton of energy out there, a lot of really smart, high integrity folks aiming to do cool work. Lots of interest in startups, new marketing agencies, leaders moving into consulting and, of course, the AI gold rush.
These are, almost without exception, enjoyable and positive meetings1. The vibe is optimistic that great opportunities are right around the corner. We chit chat, catch up, make some connections and generally try to be social. But, we all know why we’re there, ultimately: To help each other find some interesting work and keep our careers moving forward.
All of us show up for “work” stuff like coffee meetings with some version of a game face on. After the initial pleasantries, we put on a bit of a front, we code switch to “work mode”. The social part is a welcome side benefit, but most of the time it’s kind of perfunctory.
However, once in a while, a little bit of reality peeks through the manners. It seems like the push to be “your authentic self” is working and some of the talk touches on the real stuff, the honest shit that’s really going on.
Not surprisingly, when the conversation gets a little deeper, when the discussion turns to “why consulting now” or “what’s motivating you to go indy” I hear leaders articulate a deep sense of conflict between competing pressures: The realities of work vs their “real life”, personal ambitions vs a sense of duty to others. Push/Pull. Not just tension, but anguish.
More often than not, it’s not just “normal” life stress. Stress gets alleviated. These good people have something that stays with them.
It shouldn’t be a surprise (now) that we’re feeling conflicted about the volume and intensity of work. After a horrible pandemic, in the midst of historic cultural and economic change, when politics seep into everything, we still have work. No one is coming to save us. The bills - the actual and metaphorical ones - must be paid. We can’t let up.
And, the pressure is closer to home, too, for a lot of folks. Everybody’s got something heavy going on in the background, taking up mental and emotional cycles. Men, women. Parents, singles. It’s not a specific demographic, either. Millennials I am talking to are caring for aging or sick parents. Boomers are dealing with partners who are battling something (or they’re dealing with something themselves). X’ers are crushed in the middle: Their kids might be struggling and their parents are aging at the same time. Parents who have passed away, siblings who can’t be helped. It’s all right below the surface. But we still have to work.
I’m not an expert on grief (yet), but based on the stories I’m hearing over breakfast and coffee it sure seems like a lot of us are moving through some version of it: A mixture of sadness, mourning (for lost loved ones, for careers that might have been, for what might be passing them by) and fear (of what might happen, of what’s going to happen) and a general sense that something important, something that should be there, is missing.
To me grief is the sense of confusion, futility and loss when we don’t have the familiar to hang on to, when we’re knocked off our axis a bit, but we’re expected to move on, move forward, into the future, same as it ever was.
But, for so many, they know, in ways small and large, obvious and hidden, their lives will never be the same. Something profound, maybe un-nameable, has changed. But the work goes on.
Go to a cafe at 10:30 and watch the “work” meetings, and you’ll see good people having animated conversations. You’ll sense the positive buzz, you’ll get a contact high from the energy. But now, after hearing some deeply moving stories, I know a lot of those folks are keeping some very important emotional plates spinning while trying to keep their game face on.
Working Through It
There’s a pattern to these networking meetings. I truly love hearing how folks tell their stories, what they share, what they exclude, where they put emphasis and what they want from me, their audience. It’s a give and take on a couple levels: first the practical, then the personal, and sometimes the real shit. All of it is good.
Work is the ultimate coping mechanism. Career discussions are positive, necessary distractions. Plus, momentum on the work front creates psychic distance from the real-world stuff causing the pain. But, it’s always back there, the heaviness of grief, like a weight on a scale, keeping us out of balance.
In those moments when the authentic stuff breaks through the semi-formality, we all have a role to play to support each other. We can switch out of “work guy” mode into “human” mode. We can do our part to be a receiver of stories, a listener to testimonies and a giver of full attention. We can’t solve anything for anyone (that’s not the job to be done, anyway), but we can be there, we can be present, ready to be useful when someone needs a just a bit of grace or a small kindness.
Work is something we can hold onto while we’re figuring out how to climb out of the grief. Or, at least, try to hold it off. Even if we’re not really talking about “work”, let’s keep talking about work, together. Let’s keep trying to help each other. It’s a small, good way to be useful when everything else feels out of control.
Note: We’ll get back to the digital/brand building/marketing stuff. Thanks for your patience while I work out a couple ideas here.
well, except for one very memorable meeting where the other person clearly had no idea who I was, never looked me up on LinkedIn or anything, didn’t remember why we were meeting, couldn’t remember who suggested we meet. In fairness, the meeting was set up 5 weeks before we actually had the appointment. They still showed up, though! Ended up being a good talk
Happy to get griefy with you anytime. Saw your post on Linked In.