I caught myself asking one of my clients that yesterday.

She was talking through her job search, and as I listened, I could feel the drift in real time: on the one hand, this role seems interesting, but on the other hand, maybe I just want to leave my current job, or maybe I’m not bored, maybe I’m burnt out, or maybe I actually do want something new, except how would I know, and anyway maybe I should just apply to more jobs.

Her eyes moved side to side as she talked, like she was at the ophthalmologist doing one of those special exercises.

And then I said: Do you know that Katy Perry song? The one about the plastic bag? Because that’s what I’m picturing. You’re floating along, and then some gust of air sends you careening in one direction, and then another throws you somewhere else. A job posting. A recruiter email. A friend’s opinion. A rough day at work. I could go on.

Yes, she said. And I hate it. I hate not feeling grounded.

Of course she does.

So what does she do?

She applies to more jobs. So many jobs. She spends more time on LinkedIn. She reaches out to more people. She tweaks her resume. She wonders if the headline needs work. She considers downloading a new template. She tries to solve the problem by moving faster.

And every now and then, LinkedIn tosses her a tiny hit of hope — an InMail! — only for it to be someone trying to sell her AI software so she can apply to more jobs, even faster.

An adrenaline rush for absolutely nothing.

So naturally, she assumes the problem must be her materials. Her online presence. Her outreach strategy.

But that’s not actually the problem.

The problem is that it is impossible to build momentum when you are a Target bag floating through a parking lot. She is asking tactics to do the work of grounding. And tactics cannot do that job.

You can revise your resume twelve times. You can optimize your profile. You can spend hours networking. But when you’re disconnected from yourself — from what you want, what energizes you, what matters — all that effort starts to feel like running in place.

That’s why in coaching, we do something deceptively simple first: we get grounded.

Not because ‘groundedness’ is woo-woo, but because it is strategic. And, yes, it feels wonderful, too:)

When someone is grounded, they stop chasing every gust of possibility. They can tell the difference between “I want out” and “I want this.” They can feel when a role is genuinely interesting versus when it is just an escape hatch.

That’s when the job search starts to change — not because they are doing everything differently, but because they are no longer approaching it from panic.

One last thing: the job search can be truly awful. Demoralizing, frustrating, painful. It is my honor, as career coach, to help people get grounded, bring a little more lightness into the search, and move toward what’s next with clarity, confidence, and ease.

It’s possible. I really believe that.