Why Losing Your Job (and finding Martial Arts) could be the best thing that ever Happened to You

After nearly ten years in the same company, you'd think I'd be in the pot for an Omega watch, or a significant pay rise.

No.

There had already been warnings, back in 2005, that some of us were going to lose our jobs. Not because we'd done anything wrong, exactly. We had just gotten too big as a company, and the powers that be decided to slim us down.

The sales force were exempt from this, even though it could be said that they played some part in the company losing sales. They were referred to by one outgoing sales account manager as a 'sales prevention force'.

That may seem cruel, but it was at least in part, very apt.

I had already been teaching martial arts on a part time basis when the threat of redundancy loomed over me in 2005.

I hadn't necessarily done anything to warrant this, but our department had spent budgets out of existence. I was not happy with how things were, but the manager crushed dissent from me - or at least attempted to, because I wasn't part of her original crew, and so, I was easy to attack if the manager happened to be having a bad day.

Still, I avoided the chop back in 2005, only for her to leave soon afterwards, and I set about defining myself with a  career in marketing. I was now in charge of marketing, though in essence, I was 'it'.

Despite getting funding in from our partners to do campaigns, the management were unwilling or unable to back me and I became increasingly frustrated with the role.

I continued to work hard at my job, but also worked hard to become the best martial arts instructor I could be. Just a year from my actual redundancy in 2009, I took the decision to stop competing in martial arts tournaments in 2008.

Martial arts had been very good to me. I could see that my place of work was very much on a downward trajectory. The management seemed rather listless, and offered no real 'vision' for the company, except for 'we will survive'.

Well, a mayfly can survive for a day, but that's because it is constrained by it's biology.

So, through martial arts, was that the best I could do? Survive?

If in a life or death situation, I'd say survival was a pretty good thing.

Back at 'We Don't Know What We're Doing' plc, I thought survival, even if I survived 'the cut', was not likely to be a good, long term thing.

I had a mortgage to pay. I had to eat. When you have 'a job' and people ask you what you do, and you say 'oh, I'm in sales,' or 'I'm an accountant'....listen to the lifelessness in their voices.

I really did enjoy my role. Some of the people from there, I actually miss.

But I would not let it define me. It's not an ego thing either, but it's nice to say 'I teach martial arts, or 'I'm a writer', depending on who I'm talking to - sometimes both.

Like most things, we are more than the sum of our parts.

If you've got a job, do it well and be the best at that job. So if the one you work for doesn't appreciate that, move on to somewhere, someone, or in some manner that makes sense to you.

Because honestly, redundancy was probably the best thing that happened to me. It's not always easy, but teaching, and also writing, helps me change things. I feel like I'm doing something rewarding. Making a difference, and in a good way too.

Anyone who reads this, and finds themselves constrained by circumstances, or is working for a We Don't Know What We're Doing plc, just need to look at what else they can do - right now. Today. To change that.

Your boss ultimately doesn't care how you live, how you eat, what your dreams are, or whether or not you can survive. We are the mayfly in his world. But we still have value. Outside of his very small world, we can make it.

So. Find your passion, and be the best at it. I don't think I am the best martial arts teacher in the world, and I know I am not the best writer in the world. You know what? That doesn't matter.

I resolve to be the best I can be every single day. If I had kept my job back in 2009, I would be fulfilling someone else's dreams.

No. No. No.