Late last week, I was recording a podcast session for Pit-Talk (Pulling Pits and Opinions) with Israel Garcia, when he dropped a familiar subject: transition.
This month marks 10 years since I last wore the uniform. Ten years since I threw my “boots over the wire.” Ten years since I returned home with a DD-214 in hand. Ten years since diving headfirst into a second career that seemed so far removed from the life I’d led for the previous three decades.
Ten years gone, just like that.
The moment struck me, and I had to reflect a bit before continuing. For much of the past 10 years, I’ve spent a fair amount of time coaching and mentoring others through transition. In that time, I always lead with the same cautionary advice “You only know what you know and what people tell you. You never know what you need to know until after you need to know it.”
Translated: When your time to transition comes, find a mentor. Someone who still bears the scar tissue of a recent (less than five years) transition. Buy them coffee. Take them to lunch. Learn everything you can from them. They will save you from more mistakes than you can even begin to imagine.
A FRiendly Piece of Advice
As I pondered a response to Gunny G’s question, I thought about my own experience and how fortunate I’d been to have someone mentor me through that process. But what stood out most to me during that time – something I’ve reflected on countless times since – was how monumentally bad the advice was that I received from others, including people with no transition experience whatsoever.
There’s no shortage of advice on how to land a new career after transition. Some of that advice is good; more of it is garbage. Well-meaning people typically try to convince you to follow their path rather than forge your own. It’s not that their advice is necessarily bad, it’s just that it might not be the right path for you.
The Ground Truth
Several years ago, I wrote a short piece on succeeding in a post-military career, looking back on the strengths that helped me find my footing in life after the Army. A year later, I reflected on the fundamental truths that helped me to “hit the ground running” during transition.
Finding your footing in a post-transition world is not always an easy thing to do. How do you define “normal” when everything is new? As we discussed the challenges and opportunities presented during transition, I shared those truths, which are as rock solid today as they were five years ago.
1. Stick to your battle rhythm.
Remember the old recruiting slogan, “In the Army, we do more before 9:00 a.m. than most people do all day.” It’s true. One advantage we have over the other 99% of the population is that we get up, get moving, and get stuff done before most people get out of bed. In business, that’s called a competitive advantage. Bank on it.
2. Take care of your body.
All those years of living on Vitamin M and caffeine will eventually catch up with you. Don’t expedite the process by letting yourself go. Keep physically active. Hit the gym on a regular basis. You’re only issued one body. Listen to it. Take care of it. Make it last.
3. Be your genuine self.
People will always tell you to be true to yourself, but let’s face it – when you’re starting a new career, it’s easy to end up becoming what you think others want. Don’t. Be yourself, even if that raises an eyebrow once in a while.
4. Live your values.
In every company, there are shady people doing shady things. No job is worth compromising your values. Better to walk away with your self-respect intact than to hang on to a job that won’t allow you to look at yourself in the mirror each morning.
5. Change is constant.
The numbers don’t lie. Of the roughly 200,000 servicemembers who enter the veteran space each year, nearly half leave their first job within a year and roughly 80% within two years. Don’t expect to find the perfect job out of the gate. Oftentimes, finding the right job means being patient and, well, going with the flow.
Finally, remember to relax and have some fun. The days of four-day weekends might be over, but it’s amazing how much fun you can have when you don’t have to concern yourself with deployments, recall alerts at 0400, or being subjected to mandatory fun. Find a hobby. Write a book. Learn to play the guitar. Sit on your front porch and scowl at your neighbors when they even look at your lawn.
In the immortal words of Ferris Bueller: “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Remember to stop and look around as often as you can.
