When asked, most businesspeople say that passion—to lead, to serve the customer, to support a cause or a product—is what drives them. When that passion fades, they begin to question the meaning of their work. How can you reawaken the passion and reconnect with what’s meaningful for you? The first step is acknowledging the signal that it’s time to take stock. Let’s look at the various feelings that let you know the time has come.
"I feel trapped.”
Sometimes, a job that was fulfilling gradually becomes less meaningful, slowly eroding your enthusiasm and spirit until you no longer find much purpose in your work. People often describe this state as feeling trapped. They’re restless, yet they can’t seem to change—or even articulate what’s wrong.
Take the case of Bob McDowell, the corporate director of human resources at a large professional-services firm. After pouring his heart and soul into his work for 25 years, Bob had become terribly demoralized because his innovative programs were cut time and again. As a result, his efforts could do little to improve the workplace over the long term. For years he had quieted his nagging doubts, in part because an occasional success or a rare employee who flourished under his guidance provided deep, if temporary, satisfaction. Moreover, the job carried all the usual trappings of success—title, money, and perks. And, like most people in middle age, McDowell had financial responsibilities that made it risky to trade security for personal fulfillment. Factors such as these conspire to keep people trudging along, hoping things will get better. But clinging to security or trying to be a good corporate citizen can turn out to be a prison of your own making.
“I’m bored.”
Many people confuse achieving day-to-day business goals with performing truly satisfying work, so they continue setting and achieving new goals—until it dawns on them that they are bored. People are often truly shaken by this revelation; they feel as if they have just emerged from a spiritual blackout. We saw this in Nick Mimken, the owner of a successful insurance agency, who increasingly felt that something was missing from his life. He joined a book group, hoping that intellectual stimulation would help him regain some enthusiasm, but it wasn’t enough. The fact was, he had lost touch with his dreams and was going through the motions at work without experiencing any real satisfaction from the success of his business.
High achievers like Mimken may have trouble accepting that they’re bored because it’s often the generally positive traits of ambition and determination to succeed that obscure the need for fun. Some people may feel guilty about being restless when it looks like they have it all. Others may admit they aren’t having fun but believe that’s the price of success. As one manager said, “I work to live. I don’t expect to find deep meaning at the office; I get that elsewhere.” The problem? Like many, this man works more than 60 hours a week, leaving him little time to enjoy anything else.
“I’m not the person I want to be.”
Some people gradually adjust to the letdowns, frustrations, and even boredom of their work until they surrender to a routine that’s incompatible with who they are and what they truly want. Consider, for instance, John Lauer, an inspirational leader who took over as president of BFGoodrich and quickly captured the support of top executives with his insight into the company’s challenges and opportunities and his contagious passion for the business.
But after he’d been with the company about six years, we watched Lauer give a speech to a class of executive MBA students and saw that he had lost his spark. Over time, Lauer had fallen in step with a corporate culture that was focused on shareholder value in a way that was inconsistent with what he cared about. Not surprisingly, he left the company six months later, breaking from corporate life by joining his wife in her work with Hungarian relief organizations. He later admitted that he knew he wasn’t himself by the end of his time at BFGoodrich, although he didn’t quite know why.
How did Lauer stray from his core? First, the change was so gradual that he didn’t notice that he was being absorbed into a culture that didn’t fit him. Second, like many, he did what he felt he “should,” going along with the bureaucracy and making minor concession after minor concession rather than following his heart. Finally, he exhibited a trait that is a hallmark of effective leaders: adaptability. At first, adapting to the corporate culture probably made Lauer feel more comfortable. But without strong self-awareness, people risk adapting to such an extent that they no longer recognize themselves.
“I won’t compromise my ethics.”
The signal to take stock may come to people in the form of a challenge to what they feel is right. Such was the case for Niall FitzGerald, former cochairman of Unilever, when he was asked to take a leadership role in South Africa, which was still operating under apartheid. The offer was widely considered a feather in his cap and a positive sign about his future with Unilever. Until that time, FitzGerald had accepted nearly every assignment, but the South Africa opportunity stopped him in his tracks, posing a direct challenge to his principles. How could he, in good conscience, accept a job in a country whose political and practical environment he found reprehensible?
Or consider the case of a manager we’ll call Rob. After working for several supportive and loyal bosses, he found himself reporting to an executive—we’ll call him Martin—whose management style was in direct conflict with Rob’s values. The man’s abusive treatment of subordinates had derailed a number of promising careers, yet he was something of a legend in the company. To Rob’s chagrin, the senior executive team admired Martin’s performance and, frankly, felt that young managers benefited from a stint under his marine lieutenant–style leadership.
When you recognize that an experience is in conflict with your values, as FitzGerald and Rob did, you can at least make a conscious choice about how to respond. The problem is, people often miss this particular signal because they lose sight of their core values. Sometimes they separate their work from their personal lives to such an extent that they don’t bring their values to the office. As a result, they may accept or even engage in behaviors they’d deem unacceptable at home. Other people find that their work becomes their life, and business goals take precedence over everything else. Many executives who genuinely value family above all still end up working 12-hour days, missing more and more family dinners as they pursue success at work. In these cases, people may not hear the wake-up call. Even if they do, they may sense that something isn’t quite right but be unable to identify it—or do anything to change it.
“I can’t ignore the call.”
A wake-up call can come in the form of a mission: an irresistible force that compels people to step out, step up, and take on a challenge. It is as if they suddenly recognize what they are meant to do and cannot ignore it any longer.
Such a call is often spiritual, as in the case of the executive who, after examining his values and personal vision, decided to quit his job, become ordained, buy a building, and start a church—all at age 55. But a call can take other forms as well—to become a teacher, to work with disadvantaged children, or to make a difference to the people you encounter every day. Rebecca Yoon, who runs a dry-cleaning business, has come to consider it her mission to connect with her customers on a personal level. Her constant and sincere attention has created remarkable loyalty to her shop, even though the actual service she provides is identical to that delivered by hundreds of other dry cleaners in the city.
“Life is too short!”
Sometimes it takes a trauma, large or small, to jolt people into taking a hard look at their lives. Such an awakening may be the result of a heart attack, the loss of a loved one, or a world tragedy. It can also be the result of something less dramatic, like adjusting to an empty nest or celebrating a significant birthday. Priorities can become crystal clear at times like these, and things that seemed important weeks, days, or even minutes ago no longer matter.
For example, following a grueling and heroic escape from his office at One World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, John Paul DeVito of the May Davis Group stumbled into a church in tears, desperate to call his family. When a police officer tried to calm him down, DeVito responded, “I’m not in shock. I’ve never been more cognizant in my life.” Even as he mourned the deaths of friends and colleagues, he continued to be ecstatic about life, and he’s now reframing his priorities, amazed that before this horrific experience he put duty to his job above almost everything else.
DeVito is not alone. Anecdotal evidence suggests that many people felt the need to seek new meaning in their lives after the tragedies of 9/11, which highlighted the fact that life can be cut short at any time. An article in the December 26, 2001, Wall Street Journal described two women who made dramatic changes after the attacks. Following a visit to New York shortly after the towers were hit, engineer Betty Roberts quit her job at age 52 to enroll in divinity school. And Chicki Wentworth decided to give up the office and restaurant building she had owned and managed for nearly 30 years in order to work with troubled teens.
But as we’ve said, people also confront awakening events throughout their lives in much more mundane circumstances. Turning 40, getting married, sending a child to college, undergoing surgery, facing retirement—these are just a handful of the moments in life when we naturally pause, consider where our choices have taken us, and check our accomplishments against our dreams.
Interestingly, it’s somehow more socially acceptable to respond to shocking or traumatic events than to any of the others. As a result, people who feel trapped and bored often stick with a job that’s making them miserable for far too long, and thus they may be more susceptible to stress-related illnesses. What’s more, the quieter signals—a sense of unease that builds over time, for example—can be easy to miss or dismiss because their day-to-day impact is incremental. But such signals are no less important as indicators of the need to reassess than the more visible events. How do you learn to listen to vital signals and respond before it’s too late? It takes a conscious, disciplined effort at periodic self-examination.