A hand-scribbled sign at the entrance of the supermarket caught my eye as I was leaving one Sunday morning with my three babies in tow.  "Snoopy blanket lost in the supermarket.  $20.00 reward." I smiled, with great compassion for the mother and that child, as I imagined the hysterical cries of a toddler who discovered upon arriving home that his or her precious Snoopy blanket was left behind.  The blanket that had probably gotten dog-eared and faded from too many washes.  The blanket that had been with that child since birth.  The blanket that had made that child feel safe in the world and had rocked him or her to sleep a thousand different nights, was now just another dirty, torn blanket, of no sentimental use to anyone but that child.

I know that same mother probably rushed back to the supermarket, hoping to find the "blanky" laying in an aisle somewhere, perhaps a bit dirtier but nothing a washing couldn't remedy. When she didn't find it, she probably pleaded with customer service to call her if it was turned in.  In
desperation put up the reward sign, asking for more money than that blanket could possibly be worth to anyone, but of course, her and her little baby.  By now, this mother has probably bought her son or daughter a new Snoopy blanket to take it's place.  But of course, it'll never be the same as that original blanket with all the memories, and just the right smell.

Why does this story appear in an advice column for the self-employed and those who love them?  Because every individual who has ever left a paid job behind, either willingly or unwillingly, knows the feeling of losing that Snoopy blanket.

An acquaintance of mine, we'll call her Sheila, complained to me
voraciously, for several years, about how much she hated her job.  Her boss didn't appreciate her, she was underpaid, the people in her department were unfriendly and cliquish, in short, she was miserable.  And then she was laid off.  Perhaps she could have seen it as an opportunity, a blessing in disguise because she was so unhappy in the prison she called her employment.  But when I first spoke to her, I heard grief, anger, and a whole lot of fear.

The evil she knew was better than the evil she didn't.  The steady paycheck she had come to rely upon gave her such a feeling of security, it was worth the mental anguish she endured in a job she detested.  For this woman, a greater hell than a miserable job was no job at all.  For Sheila, her former position was her "Snoopy blanket." She had carried it around for so many years, she didn't believe she could thrive without it.  The worst of it was, she didn't leave her blanket behind willingly.  She lost the
blanket with no warning, adding to her pain.

Telling someone like Sheila, "Don't worry, you'll find another job," is like reassuring that toddler, "Don't worry, you'll find another Snoopy blanket." Logically, it's true. You can buy another blanket and you can find another job.  Emotionally, it's not that simple.  For individuals like Sheila, there is a grieving process not unlike what one goes through when you lose a loved one.  Even if you didn't love your job!  If, as a friend or loved one, you try to "point out the positives" to that individual before he or she is ready to hear it, you may be met with a cold shoulder.

I have met or heard from dozens of entrepreneurs who started their business when their "snoopy blanket" was torn away from them.  These were reluctant business owners and consultants who probably wouldn't have ventured out on their own without a gigantic shove.  These are men and women who were laid off, fired, or coaxed out of their seemingly secure jobs by spouses, business partners, and bosses.  These aren't the individuals you normally think of when you think of entrepreneurs - brash,  independent, courageous,visionaries.  Many of them were scared stiff when they started.  They might have even made a deal with themselves and their families:  "I'll be self-employed only until I can get another job." They were biding time until another blanket came along.

Surprise - for some reluctant business owners, self-employment turns out to be better than they ever thought.  They look back at their corporate career and they don't recognize the man or woman who was there.  They could no sooner return to a job than they could chop off their own foot.

Some former entrepreneurs try self-employment when a job loss forces them to consider it, and they simply aren't cut out for it.  Perhaps they really loved their job, or they prefer working for someone else.  They don't relish the volatility of self-employment, or they can't stomach the tasks required to sell one's services.  They find self-employment too lonely or stressful.  When someone comes along and offers them another "blanket," they grab onto it gratefully.  Daily life without the security of paid employment is manageable, but definitely not their preferred style.

The next time you try to comfort a friend or colleague who has lost a
beloved job, be careful not to be too cavalier when you say, "Don't worry, you can always get another job or become self employed." Be extra careful if you cherish being self-employed and you can't imagine why everyone wouldn't feel the same way.  To that individual, the lost job may have felt as precious as the Snoopy blanket was to that toddler.  Having it yanked away without permission or warning can be a devastating loss.  Sometimes the best thing you can do for such a friend is to say, "It must be really rough losing something you valued so much.  Is there anything I can do to help?"