I’m (avoiding) working on my resume. 

aa short account of one’s career and qualifications

ba set of accomplishments

Lately, Anna has been making cakes of yarn with this fancy winder thing she purchased. When we leave the room or go to bed at night, the kittens have been undoing the yarn cakes, and trotting off with them, and chasing them around, and tangling them up. This was cute the first time. See Sybil carry a cake of yarn… wait, Sybil, where did you get that yarn?!

I gave up access to a simple resume almost 24 years ago when we decided that I would stay home with the kids and eventually homeschool them (yes, we decided about homeschooling before the first one was introduced to the world). This wasn’t a great loss for me because I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to be when I grew up (I still don’t). I really wanted to be mom and co-adventurer with the kids learning adventures. I really like(d) making home and inviting people to gather around our table. I wasn’t stuck at home. We were all at choice year after year. 

I’m convinced that somewhere in the tangles of learning, organizing, volunteering, and leading – while being at the side of my kids and husband (while he had several career pivots and adaptations) – somewhere in here is a resume.

I can’t put my finger on why the Resume Quest seems important at this point of my journey. I’m not applying for jobs – I’m stepping into business and coaching, which feels like the next logical step from the past thirty years. (That is so weird and exciting to write!)

I have a friend who every January 1 looks over the previous year and updates her resume. What a cool way to close and open the doors of the years as they come and go. And a way to keep the kittens out of the yarn (she is a dog person, anyway). 

I want to remember. I want to celebrate. I want to be honest with myself about what I have built my foundation on. I don’t want to forget and dismiss things that should be part of my future.  I want to step into this next season with honesty,  humility, celebration, and expectation. 

Remembering during Common Time – not a crisis or a milestone – is an interesting exercise in knowing yourself. I imagine myself going through an attic of memories and experiences, and acknowledging and holding what will move forward with me. I picture myself thanking and releasing other memories, interests, and experiences. I imagine finding pieces that will inform the future picture, and pieces that can stay neatly tucked away for now. 

Do you have a regular resume habit? When was the last time you updated? What (and who) did you meet there?