Pause: Harnessing the Life-Changing Power of Giving Yourself a Break - Softcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Rachael O’Meara is a transformation leadership and executive coach, assisting others to fulfill their potential. She is a sales executive at Google and also hosts authors who have meaningful messages about mindfulness and emotional intelligence for the TalksAtGoogle YouTube channel.  
Her book Pause was named one of 2017's top business books for your career and was featured in the New York Times and on WSJ.com. She is certified in Transformational Coaching from the Wright Graduate University for the Realization of Human Potential (ICF certified), and has an MBA from Fordham University.

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Chapter 1

Training for Peak Performance

To be yourself in a world

that is constantly trying to make you something

else is the greatest accomplishment.

—RALPH WALDO EMERSON

I began my BUSINESS CAREER in the fall of 1995. For threeyears I lived right across from beautiful, historic Prospect Park in WindsorTerrace, Brooklyn. Every morning I commuted one hour into Midtown Manhattan.There the skyscrapers kissed the sky and tourists craned their necks to see howfar a building climbed. My office was housed at the same address as Radio CityMusic Hall, the same place that the leggy Rockettes called home. Next door wasRockefeller Center and my favorite spectacle, the Rockefeller Center iceskating rink. My lunch hours were filled watching skaters glide by the goldenstatues. I felt injected with inspiration. I had launched myself into the orbitof international business. I dwelled in the heart of New York City, at the ageof twenty-three. On all counts, I had “made it.”

  Despite thissuccess, I felt like something was lacking in my daily routine. Every night Icame home feeling unfulfilled. At a certain point, the routine of riding the Ftrain, stepping into my office, spending weekends partying away my hard-earnedcash, and coming home to an apartment full of roommates didn’t seem all thatrewarding. I felt like I had more I was meant to do. Something was missing.

  The followingspring, I signed myself up for a rowing club, a lifelong passion and sport Ihad excelled at before moving to New York. I found myself gunning for thenational team, rowing daily in the quiet dawn for the New York Athletic Club.We’d meet the sun and watch the morning sky unfold in velvet stripes of pinksand yellows. Without even knowing it, I found my first pause in rowing. Ithappened between every stroke, in between breaths, and before, during, andafter my workout. As a rower, I paused all the time. Rowing taught me how to bepresent, no matter what was in store for me. I held on to that feelingthroughout my day, excited to do it all over again the next morning.

  Falling back inlove with rowing helped me realize that I wanted more out of my working life. Iwanted to feel the same passion in the office. I realized I longed to join theburgeoning Internet industry and found a new job at a promising start-up calledDoubleClick.

  Fast-forward afew years. Once again, I found myself longing for more. I transferred to theSan Francisco DoubleClick office after ten years in New York City. It was timefor a change. I was fixated on the city’s beauty, lifestyle, and technologyhub. Three years later, Google acquired the company. All seemed well on boththe career and the personal front. I met my boyfriend Doug nine months after Imoved to San Francisco. A few months later I bonded with a small group ofgirlfriends from a women’s leadership class who became lifelong allies. Mysuccess was now bicoastal. I felt grateful and content to live the life I hadcreated.

  My lifestylecontinued this way for five years. But I was hungry for a new challenge atwork. Like so many other newly minted MBAs, I wanted to manage people. I wantedto make a difference in not just the work I was doing, but in other people’slives. I decided to go after a job to manage a customer support team workingwith advertisers on one of the company’s flagship products.

Hitting a Wall

After six months leading a customer support team thatranged in size from four to eleven people, I hit a wall in my performance. Ireceived feedback from my new supervisor that I wasn’t up to par and needed tobe a better communicator, listener, and manager. I began to question mydecision to take on an unfamiliar role. I was confused about what successlooked like at my job. For the first time in my corporate career I wasreceiving consistent feedback that my performance was poor and that I needed tochange in order to be successful at Google.

  What had happenedto me? After all my success, what had gone wrong? After two years at Google,was it time to leave? How did I go from being a confident, successful woman,achieving promotions and praise year after year, to what felt like afloundering failure? Around this time, I began experiencing relationshiptrouble with Doug, who was now my boyfriend of five years. Neither of us couldseem to move forward in our relationship. We were stuck.

  Call it a midlifecrisis of sorts, but I was miserable, lackluster, and beaten on all counts. Ididn’t know where to turn, but I knew I was in trouble. I felt a complete lack ofpurpose or direction. I felt unmotivated at work and, on some level, in mypersonal life. Commitment seemed to be my stumbling block, whether it wascommitting to one specific career ladder or to creating a successfulrelationship with my boyfriend.

  I was burned outfrom trying so hard in this new and challenging capacity. I took all the Googletraining sessions I could, but I was told I lacked strong communication skillsand “executive presence.” I wasn’t driving results for our team projects as muchas I should. I missed the mark on executing ideas and contributing to ourlarger management team. I received the feedback over the course of severalmonths, with no marked improvement.

  I was drowning inmy own negative self-talk. I wasn’t sure I’d ever meet expectations in the eyesof my managers. I felt as stuck at work as I did in my personal relationship. Ineeded to bring my team to the next level. I longed to provide direct andconstructive feedback to my team. I didn’t know how to do it. I felt like afailure. It wasn’t unusual for me to leave work at night only to cry during mydinner conversations with Doug.

  My mental statewas a mess. My confidence evaporated a little more every day. I felt like mywheels were spinning. I knew that a change was inevitable. My boss conveyedthis to me one spring morning. Perplexed and tired, I sat there with Margaretin our cold, sterile conference room. She explained to me how things “justweren’t working out” despite numerous reviews to assess what needed to changein my demeanor, work, and effort. What I heard was, “Rachael, you are amiserable failure. Please exit the building immediately.”

  Margaret gave mea choice that day. I could find a new role before things got ugly, or I couldstay in the position and continue to receive subpar performance reviews, likelyuntil I was let go. I would receive a ninety-day improvement plan intended toget me back on track. Both seemed like unfortunate options. I left the roomdiminished. I felt misunderstood. It certainly wasn’t for a lack of effort ordesire that things weren’t working out well. I had to report back with a planthe following week. How could I possibly make any decision in my frenziedmental state?

  I left work thatday depressed and bewildered as to how I’d gotten so off track. Before my roleas a support manager, I had been told I was a high performer. How had I gottenso bad at my job? How had things gone so terribly wrong despite my efforts tobe successful? Peddling home that Friday, I wondered if I should quiteverything that Monday. I asked myself if I should start job-hunting over theweekend. Should I aim for a new job at Google with my tarnished credibility andbruised ego? I went back and forth, stoplight by stoplight, flipping betweenthese two options. I was not in a healthy mental position to look for a newjob, regardless of what company or position it was. The voice inside me...