Swimming Upstream

John Schmied turned 50 this year. At his age, you wouldn’t think he’d do anything so silly as start his own company. But, yeah, he is. Maybe he’ll make it, maybe he’ll struggle. One thing’s for sure: he’ll write about it.Join John as he shares his trials and tribulations with readers about entering his glorious fifties and the journey of self-employment.

I seem to always have taken the path of least resistance through much of my life. When it comes to my working life, at least.

Not anymore. And I just turned 50 (yippee!).

I fell into my first career of writing (journalism), without realizing at the time that I was always headed there. In it for 16 years (or was it 18? It’s kind of complicated), I was near burnout, which happens a lot in the business. I wanted out but kept getting delayed in my move on. Or was I making excuses?

Then I got laid off.

A friend called me and said she needed someone to cover a maternity leave in the communications and public affairs department of the hospital where she worked. Was I interested?

When that came to an end 13 months later (I enjoyed it, but the politics in health care takes some getting used to), I moved back to journalism for a few months, freelancing here and there. Then an acquaintance called with an opening in communications and public affairs at a school board. The internal upheaval there led me to answer a call from a friend of a former worker about job at a bank where I …

Doesn’t matter, really.

The point it’s taken me this far to make is this: past the halfway mark of my life expectancy, I’m taking the plunge. I’m starting my own business; writing.

It’s strange, really, that I’m not scared about the future, not yet anyway. While I can’t claim to be excited, I admit to being kind of relieved. (I already have some work, which helps out).

Like many people my age (and there are a lot of me – 1959 had the greatest number of births in the post-war baby boom) I wondered what my remaining working years will be like. I can truthfully say that, except for one, I enjoyed all the jobs that I had. Reporting was fun – though draining over time – the hospital was great because of my boss, same again for the school board (where I had a couple of great bosses).

It was only my last job I didn’t enjoy, because of the culture. I’m not criticizing the bank – again, I had a super boss – it’s just that the culture was not for me. Too buttoned-down, too straight-down-the-line. I really didn’t enjoy going in to work every day. And when I rode in on the train, I saw too many who didn’t enjoy going in to their jobs either. Too many were reading reports, answering emails, talking on the phone, or catching 15-20 minutes’ sleep in the sitting position. I wondered if this is what I was relegated to for the remaining working years of my life.

I guess I can thank my last job for this move. At 50, I don’t want to not enjoy my work for the next 10-15 years. At 50 I want to like what I do.

I know there’s lots of others out there who feel exactly the same but are afraid of making a change because of the economic uncertainty, the pension investment, the routine, or simply the change itself.

For them the path of least resistance is the only choice they know. It’s one I’ve taken through much of my life.

But no more. Get me my bathing suit (but keep the life buoy handy): I’m taking the plunge.