Flower Gathering: A Career-Seeking Methodology

Marvelous things are happening to me. I’m getting grounded and in the groove at the restaurant where I work, I’m feeling more confident in my ability to serve our guests, and also better at being a good co-worker to the other hosts, to the servers, to the kitchen, to the managers. It’s long, late hours and every shift is stressful (we’ve over booked a table in the dining room and need to find a table for a four-top, table 53 is lingering and we need to turn it, we are flooded with walk-ins who need accommodations, a glass has broken in the bar area), but I love the adrenaline and I love the need to be constantly on my toes, alert to three dozen needs at once, to problem-solve at any and every moment.

The Boston Globe came to photograph the cooking classes for which I’ve been a volunteer assistant teacher. They’re doing a piece on educating school kids about food and healthy eating (inspired by the Jamie Oliver TV series craze), and they found out about the Take Back the Kitchen program at Haley House Bakery and Café, so they came and watched us make a Tunisian Couscous dish, harissa, and “boulou” the fairly healthy North African cookie that I grew up making with my Orthodox Jewish Tunisian adopted grandmother.

There are some great possibilities that I’ll be working more regularly (and not just volunteering) at Haley House Bakery, which is terribly exciting. And I’m on the verge of confirming a summer work share at Powisset Farm in Dover, MA, which I’ve heard phenomenal things about. So yes, my desires to be immersed in the burgeoning worlds of food and cooking, community building and farming, nourishing and serving, seem to be manifesting. I’m thrilled.

In spite of my joy, I’m aware that my path continues to look bizarre and downright disappointing to some the people in my life. One parent of mine wryly threatened to charge me for all the years of expensive education that was poured into me and, to them, now seems tragically wasted. And despite my self-possession, I am occasionally filled with self-doubt when I think of old friends of mine who now own their own condos, or who are newly married with successful careers in finance, or who will approach their 30th birthday with several years of having practiced law under their belts.

Today, in order to continue to feel okay about my path and my decisions, I did a very helpful thing: I went to see one of my Rabbis.  Whether or not you are Jewish, I have a suggestion for you: if you are ever in a place where you find yourself stuck (emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, mentally), consider making an appointment with a rabbi before spending tons of money on psychotherapy or mood-altering drugs.  Generally speaking, rabbis tend to be incredibly smart, empathetic and kind, attuned to the turbulent nuances of life, great question askers, keen, attentive listeners, and wise.  Very wise.  They are also free.  What’s not to love?

This particular Rabbi is fabulous inside and out. With a shock of white but impeccably coiffed hair, the kindest, warmest eyes, and slender feet encased in a teal-colored patent leather wedge with a cork heel that I couldn’t help but praise, she spent the first few moments of our meeting discussing the merits of her pink sparkly toenail polish before getting down to business. (“When I told my pedicurist I wanted a layer of sparkle on my nail polish,” my Rabbi confided, “she said ‘Why would you want that?’ I said ‘Why wouldn’t you?!’   It catches the light,” she said proudly.)

I really love my Synagogue.

Anyway, I spoke briefly about my trajectory (which I summarized as an academic high from Phillips Academy to University of Chicago to UC Berkeley and a Ph.D. program from which I extracted a Master’s Degree and the keen sense that I did not want to go into academia). And then I spoke about my passions. I talked about why I loved working at this restaurant. What drew me to Haley House Café and the cooking classes there. What it is about cooking that is fundamentally linked to healing for me, how I’m becoming more comfortable with acknowledging the spiritual dimension of nourishment. How I still can’t say I’m on a recognizable career path, but that I know I love food and cooking and feeding and community and writing, and that the best way I can put my situation right now is that I’m flower gathering. Unsure of the final vision of the bouquet, but assured that all bouquets are beautiful for their own unique composition, I’m allowing myself the freedom to wander a little bit in the field: to follow my intuition to pluck these flowers and leave others be, to turn a bunch around in my hands, and examine it anew, to be open to having my ideas of goal or final product be influenced by the process of discovery and not by imposed ideals or guidelines.

My Rabbi was wonderful. She heard me and all the excitement bubbling around my interests and the first thing she asked was “do you have a resume that reflects all this work you are doing in these fields?”  (By “fields” she meant, I think, the fields of food and healing, but I’m aware of the way that it ties into the core of the flower gathering model.)

I stopped, astonished. “No!” I exclaimed, realizing that my resume still looks like someone who is pursuing a career in academia or in nonprofit management.

“You might want to think about making a resume – and I’m using this term loosely – that can speak to all the training you’ve received, but also all the work that you are doing. And the direction in which you want to grow. Think about the kinds of things you want to learn. What are the questions you have,” she suggested. I was madly scribbling this all into my red notebook. “Think of it as your vision statement,” she concluded.

My Rabbi just gave me permission – gave me an assignment – to write myself a vision statement! I was excited. More than that: I was elated. “When you have something that works for you, send it to me, and I can help you find people who would be willing to talk with you about their decisions to work in similar fields,” my Rabbi said. “You will want to have a series of these one-on-one discussions with people. I think your metaphor is a great one: you aren’t after ‘an informational meeting;’ this is a flower gathering. As you meet people who have come to work in food and in healing, and as you connect with them, it’s not about you getting to work or not work for them. Instead, you’ll see that you will become a part of their journey, and they a part of yours. This is how things work when they are complimentary, integrative. It’s a synergy.”

So I have my project for the next couple of weeks: write my vision statement for the kinds of opportunities I wish to attract. I need to make a list of skills I have that are more appropriate than “excellent multi-tasker.” I need to think of a way to talk about my ability to listen, to really listen to people. About my deep desire to share food. My ideas and curiosity about nourishment systems. My philosophy of service.

It’s good and challenging and ultimately rewarding work, this whole “making my own career up” thing. But between the communities I’m falling in love with in Boston (for the first time ever!), and the support of my Rabbis and friends, I’m finding the strength to forge ahead in the face of the occasional resentful comment from someone I’m disappointing or my own rare but crippling wave of self-deprecation.  And I’m discovering that while I can’t yet articulate where I’m headed, I am profoundly thankful for all the guides that help me illuminate each small but undeniable step forward.

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