The Siren Song

I have a long track record of confusing opportunities with obligations. The first time I saw different was with the help of a mentor who gave this problem I had a name. The top of my head blew open and a bunch of Old Delhi pigeons flew out.

I have made a few colossal mistakes in my life because I’ve treated opportunities as obligations and said yes to things I should have said no to. This list includes a couple of job opportunities, and a couple of men.

The opportunity in question though that my friend was helping me think through though was an offer to be fast-tracked into public school administration. 🤮

I know what you're thinking: Who the bloody hell would want to be Mr. Belding? But schools are strange places with their own caste system, and anyone with actual good leadership potential stands out, like a parrot among pigeons if you will, and you get anointed. It's a garment of ego in public education.

There’s also the whole, “I want to lead change for the good of society” death trap people fall into, like when they run for political office. Ascending to a position that actually hobbles you from having any kind of impact. It's the equivalent of shooting your kneecaps off right before a marathon.

In my case, the person who told me to consider this position is somebody I deeply respect and admire. The Kool-Aid couldn’t have been served in a more temping chalice and I even took a couple of sips when I sat in his office, even though I could see nothing but red lights, my ears were buzzing like alarms, and an albatross was flopping around in my stomach.

It took someone else who knows me very well, both professionally and personally, to affirm in me what I already knew — that it was the wrong choice for me — and to tell me that it was okay to say no to things in life, with full gratitude.

This person who helped me say no is an example of why it is so important to have people from diverse backgrounds in your life because, in South Asian culture, saying no to such an opportunity, especially when presented by a respected elder, is akin to disrespecting the god of good fortune. Why do you think so many ethnic women end up in terrible marriages?

This is my conditioning, which is antithetical to a more allowing belief system I have honed as the product of many cultures, including an amorphous American one.

In moments of fear, crisis, and uncertainty, and confusion however our early conditioning trumps our more carefully constructed selves.

During a presentation I was at recently, the same mentor who offered me the aforementioned chalice shared something wise when telling the story of a time he found himself in a “do or die” situation at work and was tempted to quit.

If not me, then who? If not now, then when?

I found this rightfully stirring, and I’ve asked myself the same question several times, perhaps in a different internal language, as a call to action.

I’ve truly only found myself here once before in my career when I was standing at the precipice of taking over the family business. I was firmly pressed against the choice. The stakes were incredibly high and there were real consequences. Saying no in this case meant the business would dissolve.

It’s important to note that “do or die” situations don’t come often. I gather maybe two or three times in life max, I hope. We cast too many decisions in the image of this extreme binary though to mythologize our lives to an extent.

For me, this situation has appeared in my career when I was already in the thick of something. It forced me to ask myself whether I was willing to stick something out or not.

Sometimes new things crop up and the question instead is — Are you going to go for this? And sometimes we can’t tell if that new thing is good or not. Whether it is a sheep, or a wolf.

I call this the siren song.

A siren song is an opportunity that is compelling and alluring on the surface. Maybe it strokes dreams we have about ourselves. It’s fantastical in some way. It might be a “grass is greener” kind of thing. In Hindi we say, “dur ke dhol suhawne,” a proverb that translates to, “the songs of afar are pleasant.” That’s a siren song.

Opportunities like this make our hearts leap and our brains buzz, but once we overcome the romance, we see red lights everywhere. I’ve been especially susceptible to jumping at siren songs because I am a dreamer. And I’m proud of myself for recently saying no to a siren song opportunity — a meh offer to lease a space from the city to open a coffee shop.

My coach asked me what I was grieving by saying no. Because inevitably when we say no to anything, we are grieving something, some perception of possibility we have for ourselves.

This choice was hard for me so I followed her question and it turns out, I am grieving a whole lot. The idea that I’d want a physical food business again. A dream that I’d turn out exactly like my father. That cleaning work surfaces and counters after a long day would give me joy rather than sorrow.

I’m grieving that part of my life, my past, that made me. I’m exchanging pride for some shame perhaps around the fact that, for now, I’d like to stay away because I’ve moved on. Now is not the time, and maybe that time will never come again.

There are some things I’m celebrating too, though. Primarily the development of my own judgement and decision-making skills. Whereas before thinking about this sort of thing would terrify me or throw me into a tailspin, I am able to consider big moments in my career like this with a steadiness. I’m more considerate of myself and my wants, which are informed rather than capricious.

Listening to myself now, I see a big green light, at least to freely considering.