The Wisdom of Pearlie and Peggy

Today I’m thinking of the wisdom of two remarkable women.  Wisdom—in work, in love, in life—is something we earn by putting in the time.  It often seems that wisdom is reserved for those who’ve been around long enough to ruthlessly put things in perspective.  

My beloved grandmother, who passed away almost 20 years ago, had a dear friend who’s still going strong at age 102: Pearlie, her last living friend.  Pearlie is someone everyone adores.  She’s feisty, a trait I truly love, always exuding genuine warmth without sacrificing her no-nonsense spirit.  Here’s an example: a few years ago we were sitting around a table at my parents’ house and I was peppering Pearlie with all sorts of questions, curious about what really stood out across a century of life. Amidst stories about her beautiful marriage and world travels,  I asked her what she thought of all the amazing technological advances achieved during her lifetime, wondering what struck her as most important.  She seemed to wince.  Her reply surprised me.  All the iPads and smartphones and email, the enormous technological revolution, none of that mattered to Pearlie.  Instead, she’d gone out of her way to avoid letting most of those shiny new things into her life. 

Why? I asked.

Because, she said, my life is already full. 

Pearlie at a party!

Pearlie at a party!

Her thinking was clear and simple, yet missed by so many of us.  If Pearlie allowed all these wondrous technological conveniences into her life, she knew they’d replace activities and ways of living that she already enjoyed. The draw wasn’t compelling enough to lure her in when she loved her life, just as it was.  Her days were filled to the brim with activities she adored—biking, playing bridge, going for walks, reading books, watching shows. Without having to say more, her message was clear: Take stock of your plate. When it’s full, adding something new means taking something away. Instead of being tempted to fill your plate just to keep up with everyone else, make the choice for yourself.

Old lady 1.png

Pearlie’s approach reminded me of another remarkable woman, Peggy—a spring chicken (compared to Pearlie) at 95 years old.  Peggy worked for half a century at arguably the most prestigious publishing house in the country, rubbing elbows with Nobel-winning authors, discovering a talent for managing personalities and soothing egos.  She rose to become an indispensable figure in the company, powerful enough that droves of younger women around the office came to her year after year, seeking advice on how to navigate the bumps in the road that all successful career journeys include.  How did she do it?  How did she not only survive, but thrive?  Interestingly, her philosophy, like Pearlie’s, offers a gift of perspective and well-earned clarity: Don’t worry about the obstacles taking you off your path. The obstacles are the path.

I remember being a mid-level associate at a global law firm, with two small babies, and worrying if my unwillingness to say yes to any and all cases would create an insurmountable setback. A senior partner at the time said: “Lauren, we want to work with interesting people, and interesting people have commitments.” Recently, several clients have raised similar scenarios, fearing that an obstacle would prove to be a setback in their path.  Their concerns highlight a persistent myth about careers, that career trajectories are supposed to be smooth, linear ascents.  The reality is, career paths look a lot more like jagged ridges, or a heartbeat’s EKG: high-low, ebb-flow, bumps in the road.  In other words, obstacles are not detours; the obstacles we face are in fact the route. As Peggy reflected: Those obstacles create your career. 

Pearlie and Peggy offer a valuable lens into the future, at glimpse at the oft-hard-to-see big picture. I’m taking a page from both of these wise women. Pearlie looked at the latest shiny baubles and saw only distractions. Peggy looked at the common flow of work anxieties and saw them as stones on the path. At the core, they beg the question: What, really, is a life without commitments, or a career without obstacles?

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Lauren Laitin