"What people don't realize is that there's a difference between a summer vacation and a lifestyle," says Sharon Schuster, editor of a newsletter in Lake Bluff, Illinois.
Schuster, who had been studying these changes since 1986 when she was downsized out of a public-relations job with AT&T, says geographic cures are like comfort foods.
"When people are reeling from the emotional trauma of losing a job, they're looking for comfort, fun-something to make them feel good," she says. "But the reality is that these aren't always easy life choices, either."
After several ratings guides recently touted Fayetteville, Arkansas, as the darling of relocators, Schuster tracked down several urban refugees who migrated there in search of a better life. One was former Chicagoan Linda Ray, who moved down at age 50. To her dismay, Ray discovered that the town's economy didn't greet every transplant with open arms. She found that there wasn't much of a market for her broad communication skills in such a small community. It also didn't help that there was considerable competition for lesser positions from university students and faculty spouses. She'd never imagined it would be so hard for her to get a toehold. She was forced to fall back on the proceeds from the sale of her house to support herself.
Ray saved her career by launching her own marketing services business, eventually narrowing her focus to advertising. By joining the local chamber of commerce and volunteering for several community activities, she slowly integrated herself into the town and achieved the less frenetic pace she had so desired.
Despite her early financial difficulties, she doesn't regret her decision to leave Chicago and is pleased with the new life she's created in Fayetteville. But she warns prospective transplants to be realistic about the employment opportunities. "It could take a good solid year to get established," says Ray, "so you'd better have a full year's living expenses set aside before moving day."
To minimize potential disillusionment, Schuster recommends investigating what it would be like to live elsewhere before packing your bags. Use your vacation time to check out the job market, talk to locals and determine just how feasible your plan is.
"A little reality-testing can go a long way," says Schuster. For example, she says that if you plan to start a business, "you'd better make sure there are enough resources available to you. A phone and a fax may not be enough."
Top on her list of "musts": a decent postal system, a good library or research institution and a regional airport.
Another musical great gave similar advice. In a conversation between pianist Vladimir Horowitz and Arturo Toscanini, the great conductor cautioned Horowitz to take his own counsel:
"If you want to please the critics, don't play too loud, too soft, too fast, too slow."
Everyone's a Critic You can devise a zillion creative solutions for conflicts between your work and personal life. But they all require some introspection. Change comes from the inside out, so you have to pay attention to yourself. As Mary Nissenson Scheer says: "You don't need someone else to tell you when you're in love. You trust your instincts."
In her opinion, most people don't trust their gut enough. They look to others to hand them ready-made answers which seldom (if ever) work. Until you learn to heed the signal from your own heart, it doesn't matter what others want and think you should do.
A compelling description of this process comes from journalist Ari L. Goldman in his spiritual autobiography, The Search for God at Harvard (1991, New York: Times Books). Goldman has two seemingly incompatible passions. As an Orthodox Jew, he's Sabbath-observant (which means that he doesn't work on Saturdays). But journalism is his calling and journalism is a 7-day-a-week pursuit.
He used to lay awake nights trying to figure out how to accommodate both passions. He lived with that tension for years, never knowing how (or if) it would all turn out. He credits his mother with giving him the courage to pursue his dual loves. "I have confidence in you," she'd say. "Things will work out be-cause you'll make them work out."
She was right. Ari Goldman managed to become the first practicing Orthodox Jew ever hired by the New York Times. But don't mistake this for a fairy tale in which the hero lives happily ever after. Goldman constantly struggles to harmonize the two often-disparate worlds. He also must contend with an array of criticisms, many of which come from fellow Orthodox Jews who believe his faith is too lax-that he makes too many compromises with the secular world.
Career counselor Peggy Simonsen in Rolling Meadows, Illinois, tells a fable about what happens to people who listen too much to others' dictates.
Two men were taking an ass to market for sale. Since they had many miles to travel, they took turns riding on the animal's back. First, one man would ride while the other walked. Then, they'd reverse roles.
Halfway through the journey, they stopped for a drink. As they rested, an old friend passed by and stopped to visit.
"Look at that poor animal," the friend said. "It's totally worn out. While you two ride in luxury, that poor creature is getting heat exhaustion."
The men agreed. The animal did look tired. Refreshed from their break, they decided to walk the rest of the way. For the next few miles, they trudged down the long, dusty road.
Soon, they bumped into a local merchant who was also bringing his wares to market. The merchant eyed the ass skeptically.
"If you want to get any money for that animal at all," he said, "you'd better carry it the rest of the way. Otherwise, it won't be worth a plugged nickel."
The two men were tired, but the merchant did seem to have a point. So they scrounged around in the woods for tree branches that'd be sturdy enough to support the animal's weight. They tied its hoofs to the makeshift poles and hoisted the upside-down animal gingerly onto their shoulders, trying to distribute the weight evenly.
Trudging ever more wearily along, they arrived at a bridge stretched across some whirling rapids: the last leg of the journey. As they negotiated the steep incline, one of the men suddenly tripped on a small stone and toppled sideways. He lurched against the railing, taking the poles-ass and all-with him. Unable to stop the momentum, the other man also lost his balance. Helplessly, they watched the ass collapse into the water and drown.
Simonsen was speaking to a packed house of college students who were waiting expectantly for her conclusion.
"What do you think is the moral of the story?" she asked.
Silence, except for a few uncomfortable giggles.
"Listen to everyone's advice and you will surely lose your ass.
Had Ari Goldman caved into the pressure from religious leaders or other journalists, he might have made unnecessary sacrifices. Instead, he went through a painful process of spiritual growth and separation. He learned to seek his own counsel in matters of faith and, when necessary, to stand up for his convictions without turning his back on the communities he cared about.
Yet the only thing that Goldman wanted and needed that was so difficult for his employers to grant was Saturdays off.
