Monday, October 13, 2008

Mourning the loss of a job

A former colleague who had heard about my layoff dropped by last week with a loaf of fresh-from-the-oven cinnamon bread. "I know it's not like a death in the family," she said, "but it is a kind of a death." I thanked her for the cinnamon bread and ate it for breakfast the next two mornings. It was delicious!
And I also reflected on her comparison of a job loss to a family death. I began to see some similarities. A job loss can hurt more than a loved one's death. A death can be a natural transition, the final step of a long life and a relief to someone who has suffered and deteriorated almost beyond recognition. Death might have a long-term impact on family finances, or it might not. A job loss almost certainly will affect family finances, sometimes tragically.
It is said that mourning has several stages: shock, denial, anger, resignation, acceptance. Losing a job can spark those same emotions. I experienced shock as a loss of sensation. I stopped breathing. My mind reeled. I couldn't stand. The shock was similar to what I had experienced when I learned of the death of family members.
I skipped denial when I was laid off and went straight to anger, as did a number of friends and family members to whom I broke the news. But just as with a death, anger is wasted in a job loss. Although anger might be justified, it is unlikely to bring your job back. In almost every case, anger is more self-destructive than tactically effective. A seething anger will ultimately spoil your entire viewpoint, and won't get you a new job.
For me, resignation, acceptance and peace came quickly. I found myself glad not to be in the turmoil that my vocation had become. And although I don't yet know what my new career might be, I've received enough encouragement from loyal friends to think that God has a plan for what remains of my working life. I'm eager to see what that might be. 

2 comments:

Gina Childress said...

You are greatly missed.....

Anonymous said...

I really miss your editorials, Hal.