The Mindful Migraine

Whilst I trained as an architect, for most of my working life I have been employed as a retail project manager. Which means; I helped build retail stores. When I first started out, I rolled-out many, many small retail stores for a particular chain, each store about 100sqm (about 1000 foot (I think)). Then I progressed to stand alone fast-food restaurants. Later I worked for a department store company, and by the time I stopped working to have children, I was managing the refurbishment of whole shopping centers, with a budget of around $100million at any one time.

Anway – I was very good at building retail outlets.

So, it was no surprise that in the middle of my career, I went for a job interview for a coffee shop chain. They were fairly new to Australia, and they had big plans for expansion. I was invited to an interview at a recruitment company, to meet with the Human Resources lady from the coffee-company.

Even before we shook hands, the lady was all smiles. I had a good resume. She thought I could probably do the job. I knew I could. As the meeting progressed, her smile widened, she leaned back in her chair, we were laughing at all the things that I had experienced and overcome. By now we both knew I could do the job.

It was in the bag, as they say.

Only it wasn’t.

I did NOT get the job… and I knew it before we shook hands to say goodbye.

The mood in the room had shifted from warm and cozy to tepid in the blink of an eye.

Why?

Put simply – I made a mistake.

It’s not that I was over-confident, said anything smarmy, or anything like that; I’m not that kind of person. It also wasn’t because I hadn’t done enough research into the company… I had… BUT … I hadn’t done the RIGHT research.

I made sure I casually dropped a lot of my general research into the conversation, letting her know that I knew how old the company was, how many stores it had internationally and here in Australia, the names of key staff and anything else that might be relevant that I could find online.

So, how did I face-plant so spectacularly on the finish line?

It’s so simple in hindsight, I’m embarrassed to admit it… but I will, because I think it will help you with a realization to do with healing.

At the very end of the interview, the company lady laughed and said, “so protocol requires me to ask this question of everyone I interview, for any job no matter how junior or senior: what’s your favorite drink from our store?”

Ah… ummm… can you believe that’s the one thing I forgot to research…?!?!

It didn’t matter how I floundered my way out of the situation, talking in general terms about my love of a flat white coffee… the long pause was enough… I was not a regular customer… I couldn’t rattle off the name of some grande-spice-latte-frappuccino made with honey almond milk and extra whipped cream… I obviously did not share a passion for the product.

And if you think that doesn’t matter to a retailer – you’re wrong. Regardless of whether you work in human resources, sales, marketing, purchasing, or construction… you have to LOVE the brand you work for… or as a minimum… look like you love it… convincingly.

SIGH.

Life is what it is. If I had got that job instead of the other one, I probably wouldn’t have met my husband… I could have ended up in another state, or another country.

Instead, I am me, here and now.

The reason that it came to mind the other day, is that I was thinking about all the layers (or “layer-cakes“) involved in healing… all the moving parts… all the treadmills and roller-coasters… it can seem really tricky and complicated… but sometimes, “success” in your progress can come down to the simplest of things.

In the same way that I’ve mentioned that little things can add up to big things, and nothing is inconsequential – sometimes a cup of coffee (or skipping it) can make all the difference.

I’m not saying this to put more pressure on you.

I am however, saying it to remind you that change is within your power… one cup of coffee at a time… regardless of what fancy name you call it!

Take care taking care, Linda. x