Philipose Vaidyar
Maybe being a rolling stone isn’t about
restlessness — it’s about growth
Someone
once looked at me and said,
“You’re a rolling stone.”
The
reason?
I didn’t stay long in the same organization he did.
Ironically, he too moved on—twice—into leadership roles elsewhere.
I left
because I couldn’t see my vision taking shape.
It seemed I had to wait years before earning the leaders’ confidence—before
being trusted to do what I believed I was called to do.
After a
year, I started asking for my job description.
None came.
No one had a clear understanding of what that department was meant to do.
So, I
began doing what I could. I didn’t waste time waiting.
Still, by the end of my second year, I told the leadership I’d take my annual
leave—and hoped my JD would arrive while I was away.
Two
months passed. It never came.
I booked
my ticket, packed my things, handed over my responsibilities, and got an
acknowledgment from the executive assistant.
A few friends came to see me off at the station.
After
thirty hours of travel, I reached home.
That same day, I submitted my resignation—the one I had already written and photocopied for the CCs.
That step
of faith marked a new beginning.
A journey of faith I would walk alone.
Thirty-three
years have passed since then.
No great trophies and treasures. No collection of artifacts.
But
sometimes, I meet people who remind me of my contributions.
I’m humbled to know I could bring value, meaning, and impact to the lives
of individuals and organizations I worked with.
My work,
my vision, and my family’s needs always intersected—sometimes at the cost of a
lower title or profile.
Yet that balance helped.
Each move, often made for the sake of my children, met a genuine need.
It was
never about climbing the social ladder.
I have a family, and we wanted to see our children climb their school ladder.
I didn’t
care if I moved from Associate Director
→ to Temporary employee
→ to Senior Manager
→ to Program Manager.
The
original vision—to enhance communities and build people—never stopped.
It might
have been unseen by my critics,
but I caught glimpses of the bigger picture along the way.
The full picture, I believe, will only be revealed in eternity.
Of
course, I didn’t take root anywhere and gather moss.
But as I rolled on, every move became enriching—both for me and for those I
worked with.
Each turn
made me smoother.
And with time, people began to invite me to help, to mentor, to share.
I still
do.
So maybe
being a rolling stone isn’t about instability.
It’s about trusting the journey, shaping lives, and becoming smoother with
every turn.
My Focus on People Groups
No comments:
Post a Comment