Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Luci Swindoll is author of Celebrating Life and a co-author of various Women of Faith devotionals. She has served as a business executive of Mobil Oil Corporation and as vice president with Insight for Living. She lives in Frisco, Texas.

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notes to a working woman

W Publishing Group

Contents

Prologue: The Journey...........................................................................................ixChapter 1. The Wandering The Amazing Value of Dead Ends, False Leads, and Entry-Level Jobs.....................1Chapter 2. The Route It's All about Brains, Courage, Heart, and Faith..........................................15Chapter 3. The Signposts You're Getting Smarter All the Time-Guaranteed........................................39Chapter 4. The Roadblocks Irksome Barriers You Can Drive Around................................................55Chapter 5. The Travelers Success Redefined by Women Who've Made It.............................................83Chapter 6. The Niche Finally, Fulfillment!.....................................................................141Notes...........................................................................................................155About the Author................................................................................................159

Chapter One

THE AMAZING VALUE OF DEAD ENDS, FALSE LEADS, AND ENTRY-LEVEL JOBS The content of the job is largely irrelevant. The point is to experience. -Richard Bolles The Three Boxes of Life

Gail Cox had gone for an easy one-hour hike in the woods. Dressed in a bathing suit and caftan and wearing tennis shoes, she set out on a hot Monday morning to see the wildflowers at nearby Stoddard Lake. Although the trail was rougher and more indistinct than expected, Gail was so entranced by the beauty around her-the shimmering lake, a snowcapped peak, the carpet of flowers-she stopped noticing whether or not she was on the trodden path. When she started back to her vacation cabin later that afternoon, she found herself far from the trail.

At first Gail was more annoyed than alarmed, but she became quite uneasy when her wandering continued. The terrain turned steeper and more treacherous. A sodden meadow pulled at her tennis shoes. She fell, rolled down a hill, and finally stopped herself with her walking stick.

This is ridiculous, she thought. This is an hour's walk. What's wrong with me? Where's the trail?

Gail was a newspaper reporter, respected by her coworkers for her common sense, remarkable memory, and quick wit. At forty, she had learned to be self-reliant, so no one had been particularly surprised when she decided to vacation alone at a retreat in California's rugged Trinity Alps. But now she herself was beginning to doubt the wisdom of the trip.

After a few hours of stumbling through the underbrush, Gail Cox had to admit, I'm definitely lost, and I've been doing everything wrong. People who are lost panic and go in circles and die. But Gail was determined not to die, so she slowed down and took stock of her situation.

First, Gail determined she was most in danger of heat exhaustion, dehydration, breaking an ankle, hitting her head, and having her tennis shoes fall apart. Less likely were snakes and hypothermia. And too remote to bother with were bears, starvation, maniacs, lightning, and ghosts. Okay. I can handle this.

It was becoming clear she'd probably have to spend the night in the woods. But at daybreak, she decided, she'd hike down to a nearby stream and wait for a rescue team-which she was sure would be dispatched when she failed to return to her cabin.

To sleep, Gail curled up on the ground and used her purse and shoes for a pillow. When she heard rustling in the bushes, she said, "Go away," in a firm voice, and the rustling stopped.

At dawn Tuesday, she found an old press release in her purse and wrote a note saying she was unhurt, "if you discount my acute embarrassment at the problem I'm causing."

There was no rescue Tuesday, although she saw a white helicopter flying away from her over a ridge. On Wednesday morning, she decided to follow the stream, which ran down a rocky gorge filled with boulders and fallen trees. When the banks became impassable, she walked down the middle until she hit rapids or waterfalls. All along, she left little piles of stones as signs for the rescuers.

Late Wednesday afternoon, Gail came upon a small, level clearing with a pile of decaying firewood and a rusted beer can. Relieved at that sign of human life, she lay down and soon was asleep.

Thursday morning she awoke to the dying sound of a low-flying helicopter over the opposite ridge. Desperately she raced around the campsite, gathering dry pine needles to start a fire and signal rescuers. But the helicopter was gone by the time the needles finally caught.

At that point, Gail determined that helping herself was even more important than trying to notify rescuers. So she began to make some decisions. Amazingly, she found that the decision-making process itself boosted her spirits. Right or wrong, it produced the feeling of being in control.

Gail decided to spend all of Thursday at her newfound campsite recuperating-and without question, she needed the rest! By then she had a knot on her left shin, a large purple bruise on her calf, and a cut on her leg. Her lips were swollen and cracked, her big toe was scraped, and her shoulders were completely covered with insect bites. So she rested. That helped. She also discovered that if she carefully tended the fire, she could sleep an hour at a stretch all through the day and night.

Friday morning, she washed her clothes in the river, put on the wet swimsuit, and had just finished drying her caftan over the fire when a man's voice startled her: "Hello there." Turning, she saw a young man carrying a creel and fishing pole.

"I've been lost out here since Monday by myself," Gail managed to croak, "and I am very glad to see you." Her wandering was over.

Rescuers later told Gail Cox that she'd done all the right things to save herself. And she returned home more or less unscathed. But here's the most important takeaway in this story: she claims she learned lessons from her experience that she'll never forget.

For one thing, before she discards something as insignificant as a paper towel, she asks herself, "Is this something I might need?"

She also marvels at the luxuries we all take for granted, such as being able to get a drink of water without having to lie on her stomach.

And Gail is much more conscious of her own mortality. The day after her rescue, a young army reservist with survival training and experience in the mountains was reported missing in the same area where Gail had been lost. His body was found six days later at the base of a cliff.

Today Gail Cox finds herself telling people, "When you're lost in the mountains, you can either stay in one place waiting for the searchers, or you can wander around and take action to save yourself. The first way enhances your chances of being rescued. The second enhances your whole life."

Nobody likes to be lost. It's a terrible, scary feeling. Being lost results in panic and fear, bewilderment and confusion, much soul-searching and wandering around to find a way out of the maze. The very definition of "lost" is thoroughly...