What Color Is Your Parachute?

The auditorium buzzed with energy, a low hum of whispers, shuffled papers, and nervous excitement. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, glinting off polished floors, catching on hundreds of eager faces. I could feel it in my chest—the electricity of anticipation, the weight of expectation.

“Good morning, everyone!” Dr. Meera Iyer’s voice rang out, warm and confident. “I’m Dr. Meera Iyer, and it is my honor to welcome you to this special session. Today, we have with us a distinguished guest—someone whose leadership journey has inspired countless professionals around the world. Please join me in welcoming the Chief Operations Officer of a renowned multinational company, Mr. John DSilva!”

The applause rolled like thunder, and I felt a mixture of nerves and exhilaration as I walked to the stage. Hundreds of eyes followed me, some curious, some skeptical, some glowing with anticipation. I adjusted the microphone, drew a slow breath, and smiled.

“Thank you, Dr. Iyer,” I began. “And thank you all for such a warm welcome. It’s a privilege to be here today, among so many ambitious minds.”

I paused, letting the applause settle. I could see a few students leaning forward, pens poised, ready to capture every word. “I want to start not with charts or quarterly strategies, but with something that has guided every pivotal decision in my career. Four questions from a book called What Color Is Your Parachute? by Richard N. Bolles became my compass. And today, I hope they can guide you too.”

I leaned slightly on the podium, my eyes sweeping the room. “The questions may sound simple, but they are deceptively powerful. Let me explain each one before we dive into your thoughts and questions.”

“Who am I?” I began, my voice calm but deliberate. “Not just your résumé, degrees, or job title. This is about discovering your core—your values, passions, and unique strengths. When I first asked myself this question, I realized my most fulfilling work wasn’t what others expected of me—it was the work that aligned with my strengths and my passions. Early in my career, I once accepted a high-profile project just because it looked impressive on paper. Six months later, I was exhausted and unfulfilled. That experience taught me that knowing who you are isn’t optional—it’s essential.”

I let the silence linger, giving them time to absorb it.

“What do I want? This isn’t about salary, prestige, or title. It’s about clarity—clarity of purpose, motivation, and vision for your life. What excites you? What makes you wake up in the morning ready to give your best? For me, it wasn’t a corner office or a big bonus; it was building teams and systems that could achieve things others thought impossible. Knowing what you truly want will guide your decisions and shape your career path.”

I paused, thinking of a memory from ten years ago: the night I stayed until midnight helping a struggling team meet a client deadline. I wasn’t obligated to do it, but I loved seeing the team succeed. That clarity—that sense of purpose—was worth more than any promotion.

“Where can I best contribute? Skills are important, yes, but impact is what matters. Where do your abilities intersect with the world’s needs? Where can you make a difference that no one else can? Early in my career, I thought I had to be everywhere at once, doing everything myself. But I learned the real contribution comes from leveraging your strengths AND the strengths of those around you. That insight completely changed my professional trajectory.”

I could see a few students nodding, others whispering quietly to each other, clearly reflecting on their own experiences.

“And finally,” I said, lowering my voice for emphasis, “How do I present myself? Even the most brilliant ideas and the strongest skills mean little if they go unseen. Presentation is not vanity—it’s the bridge between your potential and the recognition of it by others. Speak with clarity, confidence, and authenticity. When you do this, your impact can be magnified far beyond what you imagined.”

I straightened and looked around the room. “These are the four questions: Who am I? What do I want? Where can I best contribute? How do I present myself? Keep them in mind—they are a compass for your career.”

A hand shot up in the middle row.

“Hi, I’m Priya Sharma,” a young woman said, voice slightly trembling. “Sir, how do I figure out who I really am when I feel pulled in so many directions—family expectations, societal pressures, and my own uncertainty?”

I smiled at her, thinking back to my first job, when I felt pulled by every external expectation. “Priya, reflection is key. Notice the moments when you feel most alive and engaged. Keep a journal, talk to mentors, and experiment. Your ‘who’ becomes clearer through action and experience, not by trying to please everyone around you.”

Priya nodded, scribbling notes. A few students exchanged glances, whispering to each other about their own uncertainties.

Another hand went up. “I’m Ahmed Khan,” a young man said from the back. “Sir, what if I try different things and still don’t know what I want?”

“Ahmed,” I said, “clarity comes through exploration. Take on projects, test roles, and reflect on how they feel. Often, we only discover what we want when we step into uncharted territory. Uncertainty isn’t your enemy—it’s your guide.”

A student near the front stood. “I’m Ananya Verma. Sir, what if I discover my strengths, but there’s no obvious place to contribute them?”

I chuckled. “Then create the space, Ananya. Real impact comes from seeing opportunities others miss. Don’t wait for permission—innovate. Your contribution doesn’t need a pre-existing place; it can be the solution the world didn’t know it needed.”

A young man near the aisle cleared his throat. “I’m Rohan Desai. I sometimes feel I’m not good enough to present myself confidently. How do I overcome that?”

I nodded knowingly. “Rohan, confidence is built gradually. Start with preparation and small wins. Practice articulating your value. Authenticity matters more than perfection. When you know your value and communicate it clearly, confidence naturally follows.”

Several hands went up. A bright-looking student, Simran Kaur, asked, “Sir, how do I decide when to take a risk and step out of my comfort zone?”

I smiled, thinking back to the day I pitched a risky project to senior leadership. “Simran, the biggest opportunities often lie outside your comfort zone. Step carefully, yes—but step. Growth begins where fear meets action. Calculated risks teach lessons that comfort never can.”

Finally, a quiet voice came from the back. “I’m Vivek Patel. How do you handle setbacks without losing motivation?”

I looked directly at him. “Vivek, setbacks are inevitable. What defines you isn’t the failure itself, but your response. Reflect, learn, adapt, and keep moving forward. Often, your breakthrough comes just after your hardest challenge.”

The room sat in silence for a few moments. Some students nodded, others scribbled furiously. Some stared off, imagining their own journeys. I could feel the weight of the lesson settling in.

“Today,” I said softly, “I haven’t just shared questions. I’ve shared a compass. Who you are, what you want, where you contribute, and how you present yourself—let these guide your career. Your journey won’t always be easy, but it will be yours to craft. Carry these questions with courage, and make your mark.”

The applause erupted, louder than before. I stepped back from the podium, letting them rise in a standing ovation. But it wasn’t the claps I noticed—it was the spark in their eyes. The spark of curiosity, courage, and possibility. They weren’t leaving with just inspiration—they were leaving with a roadmap, one question at a time, ready to navigate their own careers.