My next big adventure.

The idea hit me as I was driving in to work. 

Buy an RV, turn it into a mobile interview studio, drive it all over the country, and talk to as many people living in senior care communities as I can.

You’re probably wondering where the hell I got this idea.

You’re not crazy to ask it either. 

So I’m gonna do my best to explain:

About 2 years ago, I quit working with old people. Up until then, with minor exceptions, all I’d ever known was senior care. And in that time, all I ever dreamt of was quitting. I have a hard time explaining why I didn’t want to do the work. I guess I thought, for some reason or another, it was beneath me. How could a guy like me, spend all his time working with, for, and around old people, I thought. 

“I’d never choose this work for myself,” I’d tell myself. 

And this much was true. Had I been born into a different family, the odds I’d end up in senior care would’ve been slim. But this isn’t the reality. I was born into the family I was born into and therefore I was presented with the opportunity to work for my family’s business. That business happened to be senior care.

I like to tell myself I was a decent employee when I was there. I wasn’t the most ambitious employee my dad ever hired but I mostly did what was asked of me. There were even areas of the business that I excelled at more than others. I don’t believe I ever took advantage of my position as the owner’s son. Although I did recognize there was an inherent privileged treatment I received from other people affiliated with the business. If I’m being honest, I enjoyed that treatment at first.

But as the years passed, I grew to despise everything about working for the business and ultimately the position I found myself in. My desire to try something different and new grew. 

Finally, it got to the point where I could no longer avoid the voice in the back of my head telling me I had to leave. I could no longer run from the shame I felt by staying close to home, working for the family business, and accepting only what was given to me. 

I craved the chance to create my own opportunities and a life of my own. I craved reality. 

So I decided to leave. I moved from Pittsburgh, PA to Nashville, TN.

When I share this part of my life with people, I’m usually asked how my dad felt about this.

The dramatic in me would love to share a rage filled story where I stick it to my dad and I storm out of his office and ride off into the sunset, never to look back again. I think many imagine a knock-down, drag-out fight between the two of us where he begged me to stay and I insisted on leaving. But it was nothing like that. 

One night, after months of deliberation, I sat in the parking lot after a workout. I texted him and told him that I’d like to leave the company and that I’d be looking for a job elsewhere. 

He replied, “I understand you’re unhappy here. I support you in whatever you think you need to do.” And within just a few weeks, I’d obtained a senior care job in Nashville, TN. Within a month and a half, I was on my way to my new city.

I worked that first senior care job for about a year. I was fortunate to land in a situation where the people were great and I believed in the company I was working for. My boss was one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met and I keep in contact with her to this day. I made quite a few friends in that first job and I performed well enough. Ultimately, that desire to leave senior care continued hanging over my head.

In that first year, I made several new friends in the city. I’d communicated to one of these friends about my desire to change careers.

“I don’t think senior care is right for me,” I said.

I asked him how I could get a job like the one he had. The timing was right. The woman who gave him a start in the furniture industry was hiring. She needed someone to oversee her retail store and help sell the antique and vintage furniture she imported. I sat down with her and told her about my life. I told her that I was looking to make a career change and that I wanted to see what it’d be like to sell furniture. 

In hindsight, I had no business working for this woman. She’d been working as a designer and furniture import specialist for over 25 years. Her name in the design community is basically royalty. I’m still unsure of the reason she took a chance on me. I was in over my head. I was trying to learn new lingo, jargon, processes, people, and business practices all while still trying to navigate my way in a new city. She was patient with me. More patient than she probably should have been until she no longer could be. I hadn’t progressed much in the 6 or so months of work with her. She could tell I wasn’t interested in learning either. She called a meeting with me and communicated her observations. 

“Mack, you’re making careless mistakes and it doesn’t seem like you’re all that interested in this work,” she said.

At first, I tried to refute her observations and encouraged her that I’d get better at the job. I knew it wasn’t true though. I knew I wasn’t giving her what she needed. And I knew I’d never be able to. So I emailed her that night after we had our conversation and admitted that she was right. I had no business working for her. I was wasting her time and I was wasting mine. I respectfully submitted my resignation and began looking for another job.

I wasn’t sure what to do. 

I’d already left the senior care industry and I told myself once I was gone, I’d never return. 

For the first time in my life, I tried something new and exciting and I’d fallen flat. But I was determined to press on. I was determined to find my thing.

So I decided to check another box off my list of potential careers. 

I’d grown up being fascinated by food and I was interested in what it’d be like to work in a restaurant. I figured if I was ever going to try it, now was the time.

I began work at a fast-casual restaurant where I served tables for a few months. After serving tables, I got more work as a cook in the kitchen. After learning both the front of the house and back of the house, I was approached with an opportunity to become a manager. I took the opportunity and it’s where I’ve been since. 

The restaurant work has been the best, most challenging, yet rewarding work I’ve ever done in my life. I’ve learned how to manage. I’ve learned how to work in a kitchen. I learned how to bartend. I’ve learned how to operate the cash register. I’ve learned how to greet guests and ensure the quality of their visit. I’ve learned about people from differing cultures and backgrounds. I’ve learned what can go wrong in a shift at my restaurant and more importantly how to fix it. I’ve learned that business ownership is a daily practice. I’ve learned how to mop the floors, how to clean a hot stove, and how to develop a positive relationship with the dishwasher without saying a word (hint: offer to take out the trash for him and he’ll love you forever). And I’ve learned to be open to new experiences.

And all of this is amazing.

But most importantly, I’m learning that changing my life is difficult. As much as I might want to say to hell with it and leave my life behind, it makes more sense to take inventory of past experiences and use them to my benefit moving forward. 

Yes. There’s room for a philosophical conversation about how all of our past experiences propel us forward. And that if you’re taking inventory of your experiences, you should be able to apply all of your past experiences in the present to make better decisions than you could yesterday. But that’s not my point.

What I’m trying to say is it’s possible to leave your old life behind and forge a completely new path. That’s the greatest part about freedom. We’re allowed to change our minds and take our lives whatever direction we choose. But starting from scratch each time we want to change the direction of our lives may not be the best way to go about it. And at a certain point, it won’t even be an option.

So if you’ve got a foundation of experience behind you, my suggestion is this: take what you already know and find a useful and fulfilling way to use them in the future.

For example, if you’re an NFL player who is nearing retirement and you’re considering the next step in your life, it might make sense to think about all the things you’ve learned as an NFL player. 

Take an inventory of your interests and goals, then use what you know as a result of your time in the NFL to your benefit. Rather than attempt to sell insurance to elderly people, it’d make much more sense to sell it to current and ex-NFL players.

It isn’t necessary to follow convention once you’re out of the league. You don’t have to become a trainer, coach, or media personality. However, it’d make your life more enjoyable to use what you already know to your advantage.

For me, I’m finding this looks a lot like using what I already know about the world of senior care. Whether I like it or not, I know a lot about the way the senior care world works. So although I was so adamant about leaving after all those years, I’m coming around to the realization that I have a lot of useful information about that world. And I’m open to considering that there are avenues in that world that I just haven’t considered yet.

I’m not saying that’s where I’m headed yet. 

But for my next big adventure, I might head back that way.