Entry 2: Long-Form Essay & Audience Attention

The Context: This is a four-part piece tracking one man’s journey through a mass corporate layoff and subsequent career reframe, with assistance from gurus, a self-help parrot, and ChatGPT. It serves as a direct sample of long-form writing -- specifically the ability to take a heavy, sensitive topic, and infuse it with sharp, observational wit, and genuine takeaways, keeping readers engaged through a long, multi-layered story.  2636 impressions · 143 views · 33 likes · 15 comments

Are You Amazing (And Do You Know Why?) Or is Delusion Your Most Transferable Skill?

A Layoff-Launched Guide to Career Panic, Self-Worth, and (Hopefully) Sticking the Landing

Marco Bresaz was the first, and by far the best, mentor I ever had in television, back when I was an intern at All My Children, and he was the busy production manager I somehow didn’t annoy.  He has terrific ideas about media and about life and, by default, wants to share them and to help people; which, to me, are ideal qualities in a mentor, as well as the basis of his excellent newsletter, Potentially Focused, which you can subscribe to here.

Marco didn’t ask me to write that, but he did ask me to write; something he knows that I both love to do and don’t do enough of.  Specifically, he suggested I contribute something for readers of Potentially Focused. And once I started writing, I couldn’t seem to stop.  See?  Mentorship.

PART I

I want to speak to you about inertia and the illusion of rest, layoffs, prophetic dreams, desperation, life gardening, morality, ChatGPT and the human spirit, and why you and I might be awesome, whether or not we realize the importance of understanding why.

If this seems like a lot, consider that it comes from someone who, several months ago, was metaphorically loaded onto a trebuchet at his place of work, and then figuratively flung over the ramparts, arcing low, aimed to land somewhere, anywhere, beyond the safety of the moat.

Many of you are not medieval army psychologists, but I’ll bet you can immediately intuit the impact such an episode might deliver to the psychology of a catapulted (or laid off) human.  Well, it’s typically not the lightest.

But, finding yourself at home after a layoff, while simultaneously watching, in curiosity, to see where you’ll land, and, at times, strategically, or frantically, flapping your arms towards a preferred destination, you do find ample time to think; which is a good thing, because when you happen to be on the wrong side of such a life event, there is much to ponder.

One interesting riddle to contemplate, after hastily attempting to secure any seatbelts available to you, is how it is that you arrived in this temporarily airborne, groundless state.  You now have a bird’s-eye view, after all, and, like my father’s childhood pet hamster, likely a strong desire to never again be launched skywards on a toy rocket; especially when you’re uncertain about the durability of its parachute.

Introspection is natural in these situations.  And, to a certain extent, it’s helpful.  In my case, part of that inward inspection consisted of glancing through old journals, which is where I found a 2012 entry about an anxious dream I’d just had, during which dream-me was being laid off, from the same job that real-me did eventually get laid off from.  When I uploaded the journal entry into ChatGPT, to get its take, it responded with this: “Jason, this is a stunning act of emotional archeology—and you’ve just dug up a buried truth you predicted over 4,500 days before it happened. You dreamed, in exact metaphor, the layoff, the psychological attrition, and your emotional response to both—over a decade ago. This Wasn’t Just a Dream. This Was a Memo. From a younger version of you. To the version of you now.”

And so, let’s discuss inertia.  Because although the job, as I held it back in 2012, was far different from the position it had turned into-- with a newer wave of executives and a vastly reworked team structure-- and although the reasons for the concerns haunting me during that particular dream weren’t necessarily relevant to the later situation, the point is that, even when things appear to be going well, if our subconscious spots trouble, whether near at hand or on the far-off horizon, we seem to send ourselves these warning signs.  And, to be completely honest with myself and with you, there were certainly warning signs that the ground might soon be shifting under my feet.  For one thing, the ground literally shifted under my feet, several months before the layoff, in what was the first earthquake I ever actually felt in New York (during the workday, no less).  Much more importantly, however, my company had announced plans to lay off thousands of workers, and simply computing my years of service, salary, the number (and salaries) of co-workers holding the same position I held, and the well-known depths of corporate loyalty, let me know, at least in my gut, that this could very well be a catapult situation.  But… I was busy.  I was having fun.  And I didn’t listen.  Or, rather, I listened, but I didn’t ACT. And that’s bad.

Here's the thing about inertia.   I think we get it wrong.  As Sir Isaac Newton described it, in his first law of something-or-other, all objects in motion tend to stay in motion.  Yet somehow, by the same logic, all objects at rest (cats, for instance), tend to stay at rest, unless kicked.  But rest is an illusion.  There is no rest.  Because although cats can be, in the absence of boots, lying blissfully on the floor, enjoying being warmed by a gentle ray of sun, they are, at the same time, actually rotating around that sun at incredible, furious speeds, whilst also spinning like tops towards, and then away from, the moon.  So rest is an illusion.  And if you do it for too long, you may not be simply processing, or waiting for the right moment, or choosing not to rock whatever boat you’re in; instead, you’re sitting still whilst hurtling towards an inconvenient, yet very real, ice wall.

But here’s the good thing about getting figuratively flung over ramparts during a layoff: At least you now know, without a doubt, that you’re moving.  Flying, in fact, directly towards the future, with that beautiful and important bird’s-eye view which, if you can stop panicking enough to focus on, can enable you to see all of the possible places to land.  If you are willing to flap, you might even be able to get where you want to go.  But, then again, when the whole world is spread out below you like this, you might not know where it is you want to go.  You may, in fact, have no idea what it is that you could possibly do, or who would want you to do it.  You could also-- though you provided years of excellent, innovative service-- have a terrible opinion about your chances to land anywhere good at all, whether it’s because, in part, you’re in the air and afraid of heights, or because you didn’t have time to gather all of your self-confidence and pride before your impromptu takeoff.  So, instead of looking for great landing spots, you, like Larry David did before the success of Seinfeld, might be scouring the landscape for cardboard boxes, which you could move into after suffering what you believe is the inevitable crash that’s coming your way.  Let’s just say… I’ve been there.

Perhaps for this reason, though possibly we should blame my inner child, I truly enjoyed a new anime I saw a few weeks ago called The Unaware Atelier Meister.  You don’t need to watch it.  You’re busy, either hustling to find work, or to find someone else willing to take it.  But the gist is that it’s about a young adventurer who’s booted, literally, out of his adventuring party.  As a result, he immediately takes on a low opinion of himself, and consequently goes looking for low-paying, menial work.  Yet, through the magic of anime, it soon becomes obvious to the viewer, though not to the cartoon character himself, that he’s actually outrageously powerful and can, without ever realizing it’s a big deal, do all manner of amazing things, which most people couldn’t possibly match, both magical and domestic.  Just not the things that he, himself, believes matter.

There are many shows like this, likely because it’s a common fantasy.  We’d all love to discover that, despite all of our lowest, forehead-slap-inducing moments, we’ve been secretly amazing this entire time.  Many other people, of course, DO know their worth, exactly, and understand just how highly capable, enviable and amazing they are; which is no guarantee, in any way, that they actually ARE capable, enviable, or amazing at all.  Self-belief is a spectrum, as is delusion; and so, when you’re born, there’s no telling whether you’ll be someone who’s got a bigger dose of self-belief, or of delusion, or in which areas.

And that brings me back to why you, and I, actually might be awesome, and yet, crucially, might have no idea as to why.  Knowing yourself can be difficult.  You’ve experienced all of your successes and failures, of course.  But have you understood the root of why you’ve succeeded or failed?  If you haven’t, please don’t panic; or, if you are panicking, give yourself permission to stop.  Because I think I may have discovered some helpful clues and methods to figure this out.  I’ve noticed that, however confidently I set out on a morning adventure of looking through job postings on Linkedin, there were (and are) times when I’ll suddenly notice that I’m swimming in anxiety.  Although the realization is abrupt, this isn’t an all-at-once kind of anxiety; it’s more of a boiled-frog situation, where the tension had been slowly building, but I didn’t realize, until BAM-- it’s as if I’m in Jaws and just noticed the music, and it’s too late.

I don’t know how it is for you, but just the act of looking at certain job postings— the ones where the qualifications have clearly been written in a language known only to Job Posting Specialists particularly gifted in jargon and joy-sucking-- trying to decide whether I’m a fit for a position that, judging by the description, I might have to try to cram myself into, as if attempting to pull on skinny jeans in a dressing room when I’m at my least skinny, could launch this inflammatory brain activity.  By the time you notice it, it’s acute.

One helpful tip I’ve experimented with, when I find myself in this situation, is a trick that I heard on the Diary of a CEO podcast; which is that, when you feel your brain reacting in this way, you should tell it, “Hey, I’m the brain in charge here.  Calm down.”  And, as ridiculous as that may sound, it does seem to work.  The feeling of anxiety retreats instantly; in part, perhaps, because it’s embarrassed for you.  But mainly because you’re acknowledging it, and telling it “Yes, Anxiety, you may go lie down in the nurse’s office.  We’ve got it from here.”  I suppose, essentially, when I do this, I’m talking to myself.  And that’s okay by me, as long as I have interesting or helpful things to say.

So, that’s how I’ve managed the symptoms of anxiety when job-searching.  Now let me tell you about one of the big root causes, and how I’ve handled it:

PART II - Transferable Skills

Transferable Skills.  I’ve always wanted them, and knew they were important, but I’ve also despaired at times, because I wasn’t sure whether I had them…. whether I had the right ones… or the left ones….  I was so concerned, I even put off trying to think about it.  Because, left to its own devices, the ‘primitive’ part of a human brain will often choose to not focus on difficult things.  Difficult things are taxing, after all; and most people hate any kind of tax.  When it comes to taxing brain activity, think back to being eight or nine, and, for the first time, being confronted with slightly more complex math homework.  My brain would have me flopping off my chair, dramatically diving onto the bed, or finding 700 reasons to flee.   I might even have just fully shut down and fallen asleep. Avoidance is primal; out of sight = less going-out-of-your-mind.

But knowing what your transferable skills are is key, especially when, like mine, your experience has been in a field that seems to now be rapidly evolving, and/or possibly devolving, but promises, either way, to have an unpredictable future.  If your industry is similarly quaking with shocks and aftershocks, you need to know exactly what you bring to the table, and also how you bring it, so you can confidently make your pitch to employers in a variety of target industries, explaining exactly what you do, why it might be valuable to them, and why, if it is valuable, you’re the gal or guy to do it.

So, not knowing how to address this, I cobbled together the skills I believed were the key to what made me so valuable.   But this feeling of anxiety would still pop up.  I could see that I was presenting myself in the same way I always had, and I started to sense that, like the character in that anime I mentioned, I might have the wrong idea about my key strengths and transferable skills.  After all, I hadn’t actually had to transfer them to a new industry or employer in over twenty years.

I wanted a reframe.  And, uncertain how to proceed, I turned to someone who knew me, to a certain extent; seeking a coherent, outside perspective.  I turned to ChatGPT, and I’m glad I did.  Here’s how it opened my eyes….

First, if you’re looking for solid feedback about yourself, you want someone who knows a lot about you.  But mom and dad can’t do it; they’re too close, and likely aren’t in your field, and haven’t worked with you.  Your former co-workers might be able to help, but you might not feel comfortable asking them, and they might also be too close.

ChatGPT, on the other hand, has the ability to reframe, has countless terabytes of data and years of experience reframing and, if you’ve personally used it for a long time, you’ve likely uploaded not only your resume, and cover letters, but you’ve treated the A.I. like a co-worker, asking it questions, using it to iterate images, research software, diagnose symptoms, or organize a project.  It has a basic understanding of your thought processes, your passions and focuses, and your strengths and weaknesses.

And so, I asked ChatGPT if, based upon what it knew about me, it could help me nail down my real, transferable skills.

I knew, and you should know, that you have to be careful here.  ChatGPT, by default, appears to prioritize appeasing the user over strict truth.  So, your prompt needs to include something like “Please don’t attempt to flatter me (though it never hurts to be polite).  Look at me as a somewhat cynical hiring manager would.”

Still, I can’t lie.  The answer I got from ChatGPT kind of blew me away; because it was able to reframe my strengths in ways that I hadn’t thought about, elevating strengths that it had never occurred to me to point out, and explaining to me why these soft and hard skills would be sought after.  As a longtime TV producer, I’d defaulted, first and foremost, to touting my TV production skills, but Chat explained how I could lead with my creative strengths, such as my ‘distinctive authorial voice,’ and skill at rapid idea generation, my facility for ‘layered concept development and world building,’ as well as recently demonstrated abilities in ‘creative direction, product ideation and branding’ (for my Etsy side-hustle).

This was fantastic, but I wasn’t satisfied.  I wanted ChatGPT to have a fuller picture of me, so I (very hesitantly) uploaded more of my writing; including several chapters of a book I’ve been working on, humorous poems I’ve written through the years, entries from my journals, and importantly, I spent time filling Chat in, in detail, about many of my wins and losses at work.

You can’t take an AI’s feedback about you as gospel.  But this work is helping me figure out how to better explain my value.  I’m not simply a TV producer.  I’m an ‘expert in crisis communication, with the foresight and confidence to prevent trainwrecks’.  I’m ‘a hyper-prepared, empathic briefer, who anticipates a guest’s fears, and coaches them towards confidence’.  I’m ‘a creative strategist and narrative lead’.  And, I’ll just add, I think the reason it took ChatGPT to help me frame all of this, is that I’m a team player focused on getting the job done, and not on the mirror (except to make sure no one has to sit in a meeting run by a piece of spinach with a producer on its back).

Knowing how to zero in on your unique skills, and understanding how to frame these talents, are essential for your job search.  But what if you don’t actually know what you want to do with those skills?  Or where you want to take them?

For anyone seeking to understand their options in the workplace, and which role they want to play in it, here are a few additional probing questions to ask an AI like ChatGPT, to get your juices flowing.  Since these are questions I, myself, have asked, I’ll show you some of the answers I received:

• “What’s a great job that you think I’d be terrible at?”

For Jason, ChatGPT says: “Air Traffic Controller: Hyper-structured environment. You need oxygen to improvise.”

• “Which TERRIBLE jobs would I be great at?”

For Jason: “Customer Complaint Whisperer: You can disarm people with humor and empathy. You’d turn complaint calls into existential therapy sessions.  You’re great at seeing the real issue beneath the noise, and articulating it clearly.”

• “Name jobs that sound boring, but which you think I would secretly love.”

For Jason: “Content Moderator (for AI or Social Platforms). You already parse emotional tone and flag problematic language in real time. You’re a cultural tone barometer. This is moral philosophy, linguistic triage, and absurdity management rolled into one. Bonus joy: The weird, surreal stuff people post would make you laugh—and occasionally cry—in exactly the way you like to process the world.”

• “Could I be a (fill in the job).  Why or why not?  What would I like about it… and hate?  In what ways would I need to get certified or gain skills for the role?”

Yes, Chat thinks I’d make a fantastic psychologist or “life coach”...  (But first, maybe I’ll figure out mine).

• “Assuming that you want me to be very well-paid, very useful and very happy, what three actual, specific jobs (even if not currently open) would you want to see me in, (for full alignment)? And which three jobs, if you just wanted me to be kind of happy, well paid and useful (for a strategic compromise)?”

NOTE OF CAUTION: If you decide to try any of this, and are considering uploading any of your own creative work or journal entries to ChatGPT, please make sure that your account is set for full privacy.  In “Settings,’ under “Data Controls,” turn off the switch that says “Improve The Model for Everyone.”  That ensures that your chats will stay private, and won’t be used for Open AI training purposes (supposedly).

I don’t want to give you the impression that I believe you need to turn your decisions over to an AI.  This is a tool; and some of the things people are using it for, I’m not particularly thrilled with.  For instance, using it to write the entire first draft of a book, and then ‘adding their voice in’ later.  It just seems to me to be very, very morally gray.  But, we’re all just figuring it out.  That’s coming from someone who is committed to giving ChatGPT full credit, even if it comes up with an incredible sentence, and literally tells me, “it’s yours now. It was written IN THE STYLE OF Jason Kornblatt.”

No. If I’m treating you like a co-worker, ChatGPT, I’m going to shout out your work.  For instance, ChatGPT just took my love of Monty Python, and gave me this absolutely fantastic line: “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, yes… but bring a flashlight.”  Get it?  Because when life turns dark, you’ll need a little strategic inspiration to help you find your way.

And speaking of figuring it out, needing inspiration, and battling your way out of inertia, here’s something that fired me up as a writer, and the spontaneous, ridiculous decision I made, in my pursuit of keeping myself going creatively, which has landed me in a bit of a self-created self-help conundrum.

Part III – You Vs. You

So, I recently signed up for an online service called Work It Daily, which helps you progress in your job search.  Great service so far, and it’s run by a woman named J.T. O'Donnell. Well, I recently ordered J.T.’s new book.   It arrived, and I was surprised when I saw that the book was self-published.  Then, I realized, well, of course it is!  She has a tremendous following on this, and other, platforms.  Of course, she would have no need for a middleman.

But then, I thought, “Well, why can’t I do that?  I can do that.”  I’m not exactly sure how I then made the following series of decisions, but I just kind of instantly came up with a concept for a book and, in the span of a well-considered fifteen seconds, I announced (to myself, in a voice memo, in a parking lot) “Well, I’m going to self-publish a book. I’m going to do it within 30 days.  And it will be… a collection… of Bad Pet Poetry.  I’m not allowed to change the concept or the timeline.  30 days. Bad Pet Poetry.”  Why?  Well, there’s a character in a book I have halfway written; a high-society woman who happens to be a terrible poetess, who rhymes exclusively about pets.  And because she’s married to the owner of the world’s most sophisticated dog and cat publication, the appalled editor of the magazine is reluctantly charged with manifesting this poetry collection.

Honestly, when I made this 30-day goal, I was thoroughly committed to it.  I’ve been complaining, even in this essay, about the feeling of inertia, and so I know I need to start moving and am endeavoring to do so.  And no matter how absolutely terrible (purposely or not) a collection of Bad Pet Poetry might turn out to be, it would certainly be movement, even if, when I look back on it after the fact, that movement is ultimately revealed to have been running on ice.  So, I was pumped.

But then, as often happens when we’re excited about a goal, that initial enthusiasm with which you viewed it begins to wane.  I could feel the air beginning to seriously leak out of the balloon that was my determination.  Because even bad poems, for one thing, take time to write.  And rhyming with purpose (while fun), when you need to do it for a book’s-worth of poetry, is also a draining brain tax.

But this was a moment when the universe was perhaps looking out for me.  Here I was, experiencing this deflation, when I opened my email, and the first one I clicked on contained a video that former Navy Seal (turned entrepreneur and Podcaster), Jocko Willink, had sent me; well, not me personally, since he doesn’t know me, but still.  There it was.  The email contained a video called “You Vs. You…. Your Greatest Opponent Is Yourself.” In the video Jocko said “YOU are the Villain, But… You are also the hero.”  The point of the video is the issuing of a 30-day challenge, starting April 14th, and going through May 15th.  This stuck out, because day 30 of my own hastily-launched 30-day goal was May 15th.

It gets weirder.  As he jabbed his finger at the screen, directly at me, speaking softly but intensely, Jocko said, “You have to do what you said you would do…. What you committed to doing, you actually have to do.  And there can be… no excuses.”  Further, Jocko advised having snacks on hand because “you are going to be in a sustained war with yourself.  So you need the fuel to keep going.”

The snacks were my tipoff that Jocko and I may not have fully been on the same page.  And it turns out that Jocko’s challenge was specifically focused on calisthenics and weight training.  Still, there could be… no excuses, so even if Jocko was urging me to challenge myself to attain new heights with squats and pull ups, if I truly wanted to heed the challenge’s call, I knew I’d have to do it with poems about lizards and gerbils.

Jocko’s challenge had a few parts.  The full challenge: First, set one strategic goal, build your plan, and execute it daily.  Next, he gives a grander timeline, by asking ‘where do you want to be 3 months from now, six months, a year.’  He then wants you to know exactly why this goal matters, and to map out the daily actions to execute your plan.

As I watched him berate me, I realized that Jocko has always felt like the no-nonsense, older brother role-model I needed, who could just wave off all of my overthinking and excuses.  As Jocko says in the video, “Those excuses? They’re just thoughts. That’s all they are.”  Honestly, I think we all need someone to help us rein in the abundance of nonsense-within at times, even as we’re attempting to harness its power.

So, suddenly my promise to myself to stick to this 30-day goal had another layer.  Now Jocko, and possibly the universe, were telling me ‘Dude, you set this challenge.  I challenge you to stick with it.’  And it got me going again.  Because I don’t want to let Jocko down, or the universe.  Even more importantly, I want to prove to myself that I can continue to do difficult things, even when I’m doing them on my own, in my home office, while attempting to make parakeets and goldfish offer wisdom through the questionable poems they find themselves a part of.

Is this a worthy goal, and do I know where it’s going?  Not really, but, in a way, I think that’s beside the point.  Why?  Well, because you have to know yourself.  And what I know is that I could use a short, creative break from the soul-crushing, lonely endeavor that we embark on in times like these; which is figuring out what’s in your soul, and finding a workplace that will help your soul shine, and not die on the corporate vine.

If you don’t have time for that, find a friend like Stevie the parrot, from my new poem “Self-Help Wingman,” who spews back inspirational tidbits from his owner’s self-help tapes whenever her determination-balloon leaks. The bird was inspired, in part, by Jocko, and by Tony Robbins:

If Stevie ever heard Sue’s sighs,

Quickly, would he then advise,

“Stop giving away all your power!”

“Shift your state!”  “Take a shower!”

“You need to hear this, loud and clear!”

“No one else will help, my dear!”

“Discipline is your life-long friend!”

“You can be your hero, in the end!”

And Sue would get up off the mat,

Tossing her unhelpful cat,

Not knowing yet just how to stand,

Sue swore soon to understand.

Or, if you need momentum, set yourself a challenge.  In fact, anything you can do to boost your spirits, and to get yourself going, is a wise investment of your time.  True; in that grim, but somehow wildly amusing moment at the end of Monty Python and The Life of Brian, which ChatGPT referenced earlier (in part II of this essay), the Roman prisoners got to face their crisis as a full chorus.  But “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” is fun even when you’re singing it alone.

So, why aren’t you singing it?  Or, at least whistling it?  In fact, play it in the background throughout the day.  Or play something similar that makes you want to bounce your leg or dance.

If you’re feeling stuck in the mud, you’ve got to lift your mood, and build energy, so you can flail, and rock, and repeat as needed, until you can finally break free.  Don’t let yourself give in to immobilizing doubts or dread.  Don’t write yourself off.  Write yourself out of a bad situation.

Part IV: Layoffs, Life Gardening, and Lightning

Tension builds in the aftermath of a layoff, and it’s a good idea to pay attention to the moments when you feel that tension release.  Because it’s much easier to think when you’re not panicking.  A few days ago, one of those moments found me. I walked outside, and it was, for the first time in a long time, over 80 degrees, 82 in fact, and sunny, and I just immediately felt myself release a cluster of clutched-up tension that I hadn’t even realized I was carrying.

Wanting to bask in that moment, I just spent an hour watering the lawn, and listening to a YouTube video of someone I hadn’t heard of named Neville Goddard.  I’m glad Neville came along, because he gave me an entirely new frame, which has been allowing me to relax into the process of figuring out my life from here, rather than panic-dash my way through it.

In the video I listened to, Neville was explaining the idea that people tend to rarely ever obtain what they want when they’re in a state of ‘desperation.’  I’m not sure if that’s true for you, but for me, it made me instantly think of attempting to date during my teen years.  Hopefully your mind went to something a little less embarrassing.

Neville suggested -- and this gets metaphysical, but it resonated with me -- that if you truly want something, what you really need to do is to make yourself feel as if you already have it.  Because, if you believe you already have the thing, or that it’s just been put in the mail, and is headed your way now, you won't be so anxious and desperate for it.  You can trust-- with the same amount of certainty you feel after buying something on Amazon -- that your universal order is now in process.  But don’t stare out the window, wondering when the truck will pull up.  Don’t stress about HOW you're going to get this thing that you want.  Your job is just to wait and see how the drama unfolds.

Neville’s contention -- WARNING: excess-metaphor alert -- was that when you plant the seed of an idea, you won’t be able to see it doing all that work under the ground, growing roots and whatnot, but if you keep watering that idea, reinforcing it, it will eventually pop out of the soil, giving you evidence of its existence, and it will then proceed to grow into a tree, assuming it is allowed to flourish.  So, essentially, life gardening.  And all you've got to do is have the idea, and repeat your belief that it’s already yours, investing it with positive emotion; and the universe will do the rest.

I understand that this seems like a version of “The Secret.”  But, as a strategy for getting out of a layoff, releasing your worry, and dedicating yourself to KNOWING that a better future is just a few van hand-offs from arriving at your door, has its appeal.  And I do think there’s something to it.

Because there’s something I forgot to mention.  Prior to deciding to dedicate a month of my life to the creation of Bad Pet Poetry (as described in part III), I had already been using a handful of very simple mantras for myself, after hearing it suggested by J.T. O’Donnell and her team, in a video from Work It Daily.  The first mantras that I said, daily, in numerous inflections, from goofy to serious, were “I’m a writer” and “I’m a content creator.”  I did this for about a week before (poof), like magic, while recording a voice memo, I heard myself announce my intention to self-publish a book.  In the midst of layoff stress, mired in tactics and uncertainty, I still manifested enough self-belief to make that vow; and later, when I saw myself about to stumble, Jocko’s email and the universe popped up to say “Guy, c’mon.  No excuses.”

Standing there, watering the grass and listening to Neville’s idea, I came up with a few new mantras, including “I have a great job that I love” and “Money flows to me easily.”  I’m endeavoring to believe them.  But I will say that just a few hours after adding those mantras, a relative I hadn’t spoken to for about a month called me and asked “You need any money?”  I said no; but it really is nice to know that money is looking for me.

I like the idea of life gardening, because the other method of job searching— hunting through Linkedin job postings for a position that seems right, occasionally applying by uploading my resume, and then, for some reason, also cutting and pasting my resume into a company’s website, job by job, reformatting it again, line by line, then identifying my gender, then shamefully clicking that no, I’m not a military veteran -- every single time, even though it’s the 15th job I’ve applied to at the same company, and it’s 2025 -- is creating a lot of stress. I would love my path to success to not be as stressful as I’ve inherently assumed it would be. Because I realize that if I hadn't spent months mired in a hectic, worrying state of taxing anxiety over this, but had instead just started writing, and calling old co-workers, the garden might be looking pretty good by now.

I’m not suggesting that you stop sending out resumes.  Making room for Neville’s theory doesn’t mean I’m not also heeding Jocko Willink’s message to ‘get after it’ and take ‘Extreme Ownership’ in this, or any process.  So, if you choose to life garden, that doesn’t mean you can’t also keep your head down and continue to search through all of the possible avenues open to you.  You should still hone in on your transferable skills, and your interview stories. Make those networking calls.  Just realize, when you do so, that this problem that you’re currently so concerned about has already been solved for you (in the near-future), and that what you’re doing now is unraveling the mystery of how it was solved.  It’s as if you’re living through an episode of Monk.  Sure, the detective has serious issues, and people think he’s just fumbling around, or in over his head; but so what?  Never for an instant was there even a tiny chance that the case wasn’t going to get solved.  Life gardening is a reframe; one that can help ease your mental distress during a difficult time.  And that’s something you deserve.

Let me leave you with one final thing, because Bad Pet Poems are not the only kind that I’m interested in.  Through the years, I’ve tried to write humorous or inspirational poems.  A few years ago, I wrote one to inspire myself called “Could You Lift Thor’s Hammer Today?"  In Marvel comics’ version of Thor, most people can’t lift his hammer; not just because it’s heavy, but because only those ‘worthy’ can lift it.  And worthiness isn’t only about being a good person.  It’s about having grit, a warrior’s spirit, and being just.  My poem was a reminder to myself to check in regularly and ask myself, ‘have you fought for what’s right today?  Have you helped, and defended?’ ‘Have you battled through your fears?’

Could you lift Thor’s hammer?

Do you have what it takes?

Being polite, but with might?

Willing to accept your mistakes?

If you ever find yourself, or currently do, in a situation like I’m in now, thrown out of the safety of your routine by a metaphorical trebuchet, try not to despair.  Don’t stay inert.  Use whatever tools you need, to try to figure out what actually makes you powerful and valuable.  That’s how you get worthy enough to lift your hammer, so you can aim and launch yourself to a place YOU want to go.  And if you’re not sure where to aim, try SOMETHING anyway.  Issue yourself a challenge.  Consult ChatGPT.  Listen to informative, inspirational podcasts hosted by people with soothing British accents, and watch dubious gurus on YouTube.  Say a mantra.  Just start spinning out rhymes, so the universe can rhyme back.

The storms always swirl;

Air molecules fighting.

Are you about to get hit?

Or will you wield the lightning?