I landed my dream job while in college, drilling engineer at a major oil company. The stars and universe collided and I was being rewarded. A simple system: study hard, pick a practical major (engineering), work for an oil company your entire career. No more job applications, interviews, ill-fated cover letters—it was all done. And for years and years, this worked well for me. I’d go from rig to rig, making it rain oil.
And then boom, oil busted. Suddenly from $100+ dollars a barrel, oil was $29. Worthless, devalued, my economics kryptonite — supply and demand didn’t work in my favor. There were oversaturated supplies with not enough demand. Oil companies couldn’t operate at these conditions and didn’t need so many employees.
Within a matter of months, that dream job became a ghost of the past. What to do? Enter the art of transition. Being analytical, I made charts and tables of what my skills were and how they can transfer. And then I thought about possible industries where these would cross over. And made more charts. I overwhelmed myself. I didn’t take time to breathe, reflect, rejuvenate.
When a crisis emerges, I go into full-on gladiator mode. I think, I do, I solve, and I repeat. But for this, it was like suddenly this gladiator didn’t have the right armor. I didn’t know what to do. I ran in circles because that’s all I was capable of doing.
Recession feels like a regression, but that’s only if you make it out to be like that. A setback. Instead, it’s a chance to try something you may never have thought to do. Yoga teacher, travel, become a YouTuber, go back to school, basically anything. And that’s what I did.
I backpacked and sought answers. I took the time to refresh and renew. I discovered a new technology and it’s safe to say I’m hooked.