Searching for my people

I spoke to someone today about my transition at work. I’ve decided to move from one of the most highly respected groups in the company (think of it as a team of people that get staffed as "commandos" on key projects around the company) into an actual team in the company – trading off a broad mandate for a narrow scope, advisory responsibility for actual ownership and accountability for numbers.

I caught up with this friend, who expressed surprise at my decision to leave behind my bread and butter – analytics, for Sales. Understandable. But lying awake tonight, that wasn’t the part of the conversation that still bobs up and down on the ripples of my consciousness. It’s that part of the conversation where I asked her where she saw herself (she’s in the "commando" team I’m leaving), and she said "not with Sales". That took me aback, given the fact that her name was spoken with a high degree of respect amongst those she works with. I also knew that everyone enjoyed working with her, and greatly valued her impact. When I asked her why, she said, "I just don’t feel like I belong with them. They are not my people. The engineers are."

I didn’t take particular note of that sentence during that conversation, but her casual words seem to have plucked a chord through my entire being unbeknownst to me, and the buzz of the initial light touch has only built, and now jangles through my mind as I lay awake hours later. Do others feel as alone in life as I do? I often look on with jealousy at those cliques that inter-mingle so effortlessly, weaving themselves in and out of each others’ lives like well tuned instruments playing in tempo to the same harmony. In the midst of that is my melody singing out its solo – reinforcing the background harmony, but ultimately held at arms length – respected but separate.

How wonderful it must be to able to speak with such confidence about identifying with one group. Having struggled with finding my place in life, I can only wishfully imagine what it is like to belong, having felt it only for brief moments in my recent past. The new team – they are not my people either. Nor is the old team. No, unknowingly I had left my people when I decided to explore the unknown and tread those paths untrodden by similar people before me. And only now do I realize that price.

As I float through the gathering storm of my sense of segregation, I am haunted by my memories of my recent glimpses of home. Those are the people who I don’t work with, but whom I somehow hang out with most. I play games with them, we joke about past adventures, and talk about the future of technology. In some of those moments I have felt the momentary clasp fitting, and experienced the warm embrace of belonging. Perhaps, I have made a mistake to join Sales? If only there were a sorting hat that would tell me where I truly belong.

Hmm. At least now things seem clear. Tomorrow I will reach out to the lead of the support team. It may not be somewhere I’m familiar with working in, but since when has an untrodden path ever stopped me? Perhaps this time the smoke in the distance will lead me home to a hearth that’s enveloped in the warmth and easy laughter of my own people. Perhaps it won’t. But. Perhaps it will.