On the drive from the Hong Kong airport to the centre of the city, you pass the port. It is the epitome of the modern shipping centre - which means endless pyramids and castles of containers.

(You can see a more artistic version representing the 75,000 containers processed daily in the United States here).

I’ve just read Marc Levinson’s book The Box which shows how this humble container has become the midwife of globalisation. (Somehow this book was both tedious and interesting - great research and insights not quite brought to life).

A different kind of box

But it got me thinking about another kind of box, the box in which you see people in movies put their things after they’ve been fired. It’s a visual cliche of course, the photos and the lamp and other miscellaneous bits and pieces that are the flotsam and jetsam of your career. (Of course, these days you’d probably have your photos on your phone or PDA and the various documents you need on a 4 GB memory stick).

But what if you flipped that experience on its head, so it wasn’t something done to you but something you actively planned?

The question for me would be this: Knowing that you will be leaving the current job you’re in, what do you want to take with you when you go?

==> What experiences?

==> What wisdom?

==> What scars?

==> What stories?

==> What relationships?

It’s less about specific content to take away (which would often be illegal anyway). But it is about filling your own reserves with what you want and need. Planning on what you want to take with you will help you search out the Great Work that will give you what you need.