Breaking Out of Prison
Island Prison by Rodrigo Soares on Unsplash
How I learned to tell myself better stories
Early 2021. It was the first month of a three-month notice period at my job and I was struggling. Frustration and lack of control were all-consuming. With resentment about having to serve this time.
Overall, the job had been good to me. But the past year of organizational changes, poor decisions and failed projects left me feeling deflated, unmotivated, and burned out. Plus, an exciting new opportunity was ahead. My time here was nearly up.
While my intention was to ‘exit gracefully’ — committed to showing up every day and continuing to support my colleagues — my internal struggle was one of rebellion, led by my inner justice warrior, seeking to right the wrongs as I fled the scene.
Trapped.
It’s the word I flung at my career change coach when she asked for a single-word summary of my current state.
“And what’s that like?” she carefully replied.
“Like being in a prison and wanting to escape.”
Therein lies the problem. Prison breaks and graceful exits don’t readily align with each other.
My invisible coat
Red's impression of Andy, from The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
I learn so many things from the coaches I’ve worked with. Like the idea that your values cannot conflict with each other; it’s just not possible.
When we feel like our values are in opposition, it’s actually the case that some expression of those values — a thought or behaviour — doesn’t match up with another expression.
For example, the welfare of all beings and indulging in luxurious things aren’t inherently in conflict. But when that shows up as a foie gras platter, we might have a problem.
I started to question which values were showing up in my great escape / graceful exit scenario. My metaphor of a prison was an apt frame for my feelings of confinement, but how well does it function as a place for doing right by my employer and honoring my colleagues?
When freedom meets integrity
I asked myself which values come up for me when thinking about ‘escaping from my job’.
Freedom. Rebellion.
Which values come up when I think about my plan to exit gracefully?
Integrity. Class. Honour.
How might both breaking free and exiting gracefully be simultaneously true?
From suspense to slightly madcap
Originally I had imagined a dramatic and shocking escape. This met my desire for freedom, but didn’t square up with a more measured departure.
In prison, there is a lot of time to think. So I sat with this self-imposed confinement.
I recognized that the only way for me to reconcile my competing values was to reimagine this prison break not as a drama, but as a lighthearted comedy.
With my coach, I explored how this grand tunnel escape might play out, complete with a costume change and narrative flip. My “other side outfit” was instantly transformed from a business suit and briefcase to casual clothes and rucksack. Those ‘prison guards’ I was fleeing from — who were actually very kind captors, after all — checked my now-empty cell to find a complete guide to welcome the new inmate, plus handwritten letters for all the fellow prisoners on the cellblock. (Over in the real world, these were realized as emails.)
This exploration allowed me to tap into a range of emotions — from frustration and anger to humour, excitement and delight. More importantly, it provided a stage upon which to play out my values, resulting in their alignment toward a coherent narrative (albeit a slightly madcap one).
What needs to be true?
In my exit scenario, I needed to rewrite the story in a way that made sense for both how I felt (frustrated, rebellious) and my intentions (classy, graceful).
What needed to be true for this to work?
For me, it was important that I honored how I felt, but expressed in a way I could be proud of.
It always starts with the story.
At first, I was telling a very serious story, full of anger and entitlement. It took a lot of energy to tell, even if only to myself.
When I shifted the narrative to a more creative and enjoyable experience, my coworkers became comical co-conspirators. My evil boss, the bumbling sheriff with the cell keys.
In the end, I chose to make those last months time well served.
What story are you currently telling yourself?
Get in touch if you’d like to transform it into something better.
