Have you ever heard the saying “dress for the job you want, not the job you have.” I have, and I chuckle pretty hard when I consider the timing of it. I first heard it while working part-time as an HR team member at a major US retail store. Nevertheless, I took the advice and swapped my red hoodie for a red cardigan, within 18 months, I had upgraded to a job in accounts payable at a scrap metal yard, where I was highly encouraged to wear jeans… and a hoodie.
While I find it hilarious that I exchanged my hoodie for a cardigan only to move on to a job where wearing a hoodie was infinitely more appropriate, I do still see the wisdom at the heart of the saying. Because, at the risk of sounding cliché, it makes sense that you have to prepare for the life you want. I mean, how the heck are you gonna succeed at a new kind of life if you refuse to get ready for it?
Now, before you go rolling your eyes too much, don’t worry, I enjoy a good platitude as much as the next person, which is… *cough, cough* …not at all. But I also can’t deny the personal benefit and growth I have seen in my life since I started operating under this new mental framework of “preparing for the life I want.” Let me give you some background.
Growing up, we had a lot of “things.” I wouldn’t call my mom a hoarder, because she didn’t save trash and you could always maneuver around our house. Rather, I would say she was a Garage Sale Junkie… yeah, that’s it. I’m not entirely certain her mentality around it, but the rationale for all our things tended to be either: sentimental (remember when we…), a weird sense of preparedness (in case you want to *insert blank,* you’ll have *blank*), or excessive comfort (Example: at one point, for our family of five, in a living room that was maybe 11×17 feet, I think we had three couches/loveseats, so you rarely had to share a seat).
As a result, I grew up learning to acquire and retain things. And I was good at it! I had vast movie and music collections, and I’m talking physical collections, DVDs, VHS, CDs, cassette tapes. I saved my childhood toys: gaming systems, board games, Barbies, Legos, etc. Oh, and the hobby supplies, dang near endless!
While I could continue listing all the stuff I had, let’s fast forward to where I learned a few lessons. First, this last summer, when my roommates and I had to move unexpectedly, I was hit by a metaphorical 2×4 to the face, as I realized just how much stuff I had accumulated in the five years we lived in that house. It was immense, and the packing and sorting of it all, was exhausting. I walked away from that experience with a profound desire to never have to pack and move that much crap, ever again.
Second, I realized that the theoretical “lives” I was saving these items for, are lives that I am no longer interested in pursuing. For example, I had saved a full dining set of Blue Willow dishes that my mom had collected over the years. While those dishes were beautiful and would be so useful for hosting diner parties, ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that I am not a hostess. Honestly, the idea of hosting family holidays or having a group of people over for diner sounds stressful and you would most likely find me washing those beautiful dishes half way through the night in an attempt to calm my anxious and overwhelmed sensibilities.
This second realization has become the logical foundation for a question that I now ask myself most days: “Does this align with the kind of life that I want to lead?” It seems simple enough, right? It also strikes me as a question that most people probably don’t have to ask themselves. I don’t know about you, but I have lived most of my life in one of two modes: either peacekeeper mode (usually exemplified with people pleasing qualities) or reaction mode (often fueled by emotions, and rarely beneficial). Granted, I am still learning to live by this new mentality and I don’t get it right all the time. I am literally coming off of a Saturday where, regardless of the to do list full of things to better my life, I spent the whole day in bed binge watching a TV show.
Nevertheless, this mental pause to recalibrate my actions has also given me a new outlook on my future, and I like it. It has taken my dreams and made them feel more like goals, like anything is possible. Don’t get me wrong, there will be hurdles and struggles, but instead of these events being defeats, they become opportunities to pause, readjust, and try a new method.
So, are you preparing for the life you want to lead? Will you pause to ask if your choices align with the life you want to lead, or if they will help you become the person you want to be?
Sojourn Nation 