Getting your ducks in a row
Almost a year after we had found our house, we only had a flock of 3 geriatric chickens, a nascent garden plot, and many dreams about what the next step would be. We had talked about getting new layers, we had talked about building a coop. We were doing a lot of talking and not a lot of anything else. Then came a message from a friend on Facebook.
“Are you guys interested in ducks?”
We had talked about it off and on for years. We’d researched a fair bit, but weren’t sure we were ready.
“I sure am. We’ll take 3”
“Ok. I just need to find someone who wants two more so I can place the order.”
I didn’t want to lose this momentum.
“Go ahead and order now and we’ll take the other two if no one wants them.”
“Perfect…. They’re all ordered.”
Everything was fast and furious after that. The day I woke up to a 4:30 message that the ducklings were in, I didn’t have the brooder yet. I do not recommend wielding
The truth is, I’ve never had my ducks in a row. Taking the leap and figuring it out as I go has been my standard in life. I remember walking through the student center at the beginning of the spring semester senior year of college. A friend was lecturing me about how I needed to make a plan for after graduation and I literally tripped over a giant sign for a school trip to Stonehenge.
I stared at the poster for a minute as he continued his speech and simply said, “Fine. I’ll go there.”
“On the trip?”
“No, I’ll travel after graduation. I’ll see Stonehenge.”
To be clear, I was the definition of broke. And an English major. I might as well have declared I was going to the moon.
“That’s not a plan. It’s a pipe dream.”
I smirked. “Watch me.”
I had no idea how I was going to make it happen, but just over a year after that conversation, I sent him a postcard from right near Stonehenge. It simply said, “I told you I would do it.”
It hadn’t been easy. I’d had three jobs since graduation, none in my major, all right around minimum wage. At one point, I ended up back in the sandwich shop I had worked at during school which was definitely an ego blow. My first day back, one of my old regulars walked in and just said, “You are not supposed to be here.” He happened to be on his way to post a job opening for an ed tech to work with special need pre-schoolers. The pay was twice what I was making, but I hesitated. “That’s not really my field,” I said. “I don’t have any experience.”
“Come to an interview tomorrow. I’ll hold off posting this and we’ll see if it’s a good fit.”
Thanks to that one day back in the sandwich shop, I spent seven months in one of the most exhausting and rewarding jobs I’ve ever had. I landed a second job at a bookstore, cut corners to save money, couch surfed for the last few weeks and flew to Oxford to stay with friends who were doing a semester abroad. When their semester wrapped, we spent a month and a half backpacking in Europe.
While I still didn’t exactly have a plan, I’d put out feelers for teaching jobs and sent out resumes before I left. I came home exactly one day before the lead secretary at one of the schools quit with only 3 days notice. A friend who worked there called and encouraged me to come interview that day so I could get my foot in the door. Despite being wildly jetlagged, I somehow convinced them I could take over with only two days of training and no real administrative experience.
I still work for that district to this day.
Sometime later I commented to the friend that had helped me get the job that I was seriously lucky with how it all turned out.
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean, the timing was great. I don’t know I got so lucky.”
She gave me a long look. “You left the jobs that weren’t right for you despite the uncertainty, you kept looking and took the chances that were put in front of you even though they were not what you had planned, and you did the work to set up everything that you needed. The timing was good, but don’t act like this was all something beyond your control. Don’t pass this off on luck. Luck is lazy; you worked.”
It’s true. I almost didn’t go back to the sandwich shop because I was ashamed. I almost didn’t take the ed tech job because I was scared. I almost didn’t go in for the secretary interview because I was jetlagged. I was fortunate, yes, but I did the work and took the chances.
Of course, it’s easier to take chances when you’re a shiftless 21-year-old. When you have mortgages and responsibilities, you have to be a little more strategic. When my son was born, I knew within seconds of seeing his face that my plan of going back to work full-time wasn’t going to cut it. One month into my maternity leave, my department found out that the position they were supposed to be adding was only going to be a half- time position. My husband and I talked about it, looked at the budget, and I called my principal to tell him that I would take the half- time position if he could help me figure out how to keep insurance for my son.
With his support, I pitched a plan to the Superintendent: I would take the pay cut that would save the district money and let them find a stronger candidate if they would cover the cost of my son’s insurance. In exchange for full coverage, I would
I don’t mean to be like my lecturing college friend. Plans are good, sure. Timing is important too, but sometimes it’s just about listening to your gut keeping your eyes open, taking that initial leap and trusting that you’ll find your way. Sometimes it’s about asking for what you need, and proving that you can do it. Sometimes it may feel like it’s all going to end in disaster, but if you keep taking the next step it usually works out, even if it isn’t quite how you thought it would. One thing is for sure, you definitely learn more than you do by standing still.