What is it about the post-baby-boomer generations who struggle so with having to work for a living, especially having to work a job one doesn’t want to do?
I suppose it has to do with the conflicting modern messages about chasing your dreams. Raised by parents who endured the depression, baby boomers were more often told they were lucky to have a job, any job. Perhaps younger generations have softened.
A while back I posted a meme on Facebook that urged you to do what you love for a living. And if you’re not doing what you love, you are wasting life.
That’s a scary thought, isn’t it?
A friend challenged me and said that there are exceptions, that not everyone can do what they love. After initially feeling sad about this pessimistic notion, especially as one raised to always chase your dreams, more pondering has led me to an expanded view.
No, not everyone should chase their passion. In fact, chasing your passion can be a dangerous game. I’m reading a highly recommended book right now called So Good They Can’t Ignore You by Cal Newport. I think any of you caught in a predicament similar to my friend should read this book. Actually, I recommend it to all of you. Exploring the idea that chasing your passions isn’t always the best answer, the author uses very fine examples like the great surfboard shaper Al Merrick, comedian Steve Martin, and then lesser-known individuals with more common jobs like administrative cubicle work, masonry, etc. Cal is a brilliant guy, and I’m sure I’ll read his next two books, which look equally thought-provoking.
Anyway… are there exceptions? Are we wasting life unless we’re doing what we love? I still say yes, but not exactly in the way that you might think. I suppose I could bring my own life experience in as an example and jumping off point.
Falling in love with the banjo, I majored in music in college and then moved to Nashville with a band. I was doing what I loved. Until I wasn’t. The stresses of making my passion an occupation pushed me up against a wall. Not only did the pressure start to drain the joy of playing, but I was also shown the guts of the music business. Let me tell you, what I saw wasn’t pretty.
After suffering from a career-ending hand disorder, being sued by Dwight Yoakam, and being deceived by a well-known producer, I left the music business with my tail between my legs. Let’s just say 2002 was my dark night of the soul. Though I had some wonderful experiences with bandmates who are still my brothers today, I often wish I’d kept my passion as a passion, something I could do for fun. And that’s in fact what music is for me now. I don’t tie my identity to it, I don’t try to make money with it. I just pick up an instrument in my room and pluck away with tremendous joy.
There’s a difference between doing what you love, chasing your passion, and loving what you do. Not all of us should chase what we love. For example, if you’re into skiing or surfing, hunting or fishing, writing, reading, playing golf or another sport, or painting, your love of this thing doesn’t mean you should pursue it as an occupation.
That being said, you should probably choose a career that interests you, but think twice before mixing business and pleasure. Just because you’re not a painter or a famous actor or well-known bass fisherman doesn’t mean you’re failing. Doing what you love might mean learning to love what you do.
Learn to love what you do. How do you do that? By putting everything you have into it. Go to the woodshed, hone your skills. Be the best you can be.
There are, of course, situations where you need to leave your job. If you’re surrounded by toxic people, if your health is declining due to your career hazards (coal mining, for example), then maybe you need to quit.
Let’s look at someone who is in a career that’s not necessarily glamorous. Maybe you’re a VP of administrative blah blah blah reporting to a ladder of other VPs selling the worst product you could ever imagine. But your situation at home doesn’t allow you to quit. Perhaps you’re trapped in a town you don’t love because you are divorced, and the kids are still there. You’re in debt anyway, so you can’t afford to move. On top of that, there are no other jobs to be had in this town. That’s a pretty tough situation to be in.
In my humble opinion, you either walk away, or you decide to give this job everything you have. Become the absolute best at what you do. Start digging in. Learn to love what you do and become infectious with your joy. Just because you’re not doing what you dreamed of as a child doesn’t mean you’re failing. The only reason you’re failing is if you’re half-assing.
Eckhart Tolle says you have two choices in these situations. Accept the now or walk away. To add to that, especially with regards to the VP above, if you can’t walk away but know that it must be done, then make an escape plan. Don’t let your miserable little ego hold you back. Either learn to love what you do by getting really good at it, while also putting a smile on your face, or get the heck out of there.
Have you ever come across someone who is doing what they’re meant to do, their calling? It’s a beautiful sight to see, even if the position is not glamorous. I came across a sandwich shop in Dallas a few years ago that I revisit when I’m in town. When I walked in, the owner welcomed me from behind the counter. He told he makes the best sandwiches in Texas. I looked around and every diner in the establishment was nodding, while devouring his creations. After I placed my order, he put together a wonderful sandwich, all the while wearing a big, radiating, infectious grin. I actually walked out with this crazy thought that I wanted to own a sandwich shop and live a simple life that I was proud of.
That wasn’t the point, though. I wasn’t supposed to open a sandwich shop. The lesson I needed to learn was that I should love what I do, no matter what that is, be it a garbage man, a contractor, a mason, a banjoist. Not only was the sandwich guru happy, but he was touching everyone’s soul, one bite at a time. I didn’t ask, but I don’t think he grew up dreaming of owning a sandwich shop and making the best sandwiches in Texas. I suspect he opened a sandwich shop, spent years mastering his art, and somewhere along the way, found a love and great pride in what he does.
Not all of us will be the President of the United States or an astronaut, however, all of us should love what we do. If you’re able to make a living with your passion and it’s working out, great. For most of us, we need to work a job that isn’t exactly what we dream about at night or wake up dying to do on Saturday morning.
How do you learn to love what you do? By becoming the absolute best you can be and doing it with a smile.
One more thing, your occupation certainly doesn’t define you. You can be just as important as Yo Yo Ma by being a great mom or dad, husband or wife, or friend.
Ultimately, the question is not what can the world do for us? It’s what can we do for the world?
Whatever it is you do, do it well. There’s nothing like the black hole that was recently discovered to remind us how precious, short, and fragile life is.
Don’t do what you love, love what you do.
2 Responses
I guess my comment is what happens when you no longer love what you do. I spend 20 some odd years loving doing Microbiology in a hospital setting, in a sort of gradual way the job became more and more stressful, right in the middle of finishing my Masters in Medical Technology I realized I was no longer interested in the job, it wasn’t the people, it wasn’t the actual work, it was the way the job changed, so you were no longer pursuing the mysteries of Clinical Microbiology but drudging through the deeper and deeper mire of regulations. It is dragging an interesting useful occupation right into the depths to have to put up with inspectors that think not having a MSDS for liquid paper is more important than anything else you do for your departments excellence. I left the field for s short but happy time running my farm, then sadly had to go back due tho money constraints after my husband passed. Now happily retired from the laboratory drudgery after 40 years of work, I am still running my happy place on the farm. It was out of the question to try to uproot a farm and start over again, money constraints would have been epic, and jobs that pay above minimum wage in such a rural area are few and far between. There are other things I may have been able to do to stay self employed, but I have always been reluctant to put my happy pursuits on the line and cause them to be drudgery, I have seen it happen to too many other people. I am not afraid to work, it is how we grew up, something everyone did, and work on the farm might be more energetic then being a professional, but the political aspects of the professional job is what drove me away from the professional job.
I know EXACTLY what you mean on all fronts, especially the idea of making a happy pursuit less happy. Good for you for fighting the good fight and doing what you needed to do. It’s quite sad about the regulations. I’ve worked both in music and the wine business and both took over the years turns for the worst as well, with regard to the uglier business side. Thanks for writing, Barb.