Posts Tagged: dreams

crap work or steps on the path to joy?

Last Thurs­day, I picked up lunch from the Whole Foods near my office and sat out­side to eat. I was wedged between two tables with peo­ple actively engaged in con­ver­sa­tion. I couldn’t help but over­hear both conversations.

Sit­ting at the table to my left was a young woman speak­ing to a guy. From what I could gather, she was recently hired by Whole Foods (Whole Foods’ regional office is in the office next to mine). She was talk­ing to the guy about her out­look on how to do her job, and gave her a lot of, what sounded like, con­struc­tive feed­back and advice on how to exe­cute. How­ever, just before left the table, the guy dropped a few cau­tion­ary words about work­ing with cer­tain peo­ple. Oddly, the entire “zen thing” the guy had vapor­ized when he spoke about the cul­ture of this woman’s new divi­sion. Quite a sour note to end a conversation.

Mean­while, at the table to my right were two women who spent a lot of time talk­ing about a new per­son in their office. In a nut­shell, both seemed to like the woman who joined the office, but were in lock-step in think­ing that the young woman needed to grow up and real­ize that work is not all fun and rosy. Both women said that this young woman needed to real­ize that the time for fun in the office was over, and she was going to start doing the crap work. One went on to say that this young woman needed to fur­ther under­stand and/or real­ize that as she moves up in the office, and takes on more respon­si­bil­ity, the crap work only increases.

Wow!

I think just about every­one has heard the quote about dis­cov­er­ing your passion.

Do what you love, and you never work a day in your life.

I won­der, though, how many peo­ple actu­ally take that sen­ti­ment to heart. I firmly believe in the quote, but freely admit that I don’t love what I do for a liv­ing, and day­dream, often, about what I’d really love to do. Sadly, this has been the story of my work life for the last 20 years. I think that I have fallen into, or moved around from, one job to another, never really tak­ing a sin­gle stride toward find­ing my pas­sion and mak­ing that what I do for a living.

With that said, aside from occa­sional “Oh my god…I hate my job!” moments, I don’t sit around think­ing that I’ve pulled the short­est straw. I think about how to immerse myself in the job I’m, become more versed, and make the most of where I find myself.

While think­ing about this post, the notion of “crap work,” an old adage came to mind.

When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Lemonade.

The objec­tive read of this quote sug­gests that peo­ple should make the most of what they have. It chal­lenges one to see beyond the obvi­ous to get to a bet­ter place.

The sub­jec­tive read of this lit­tle nugget (the “crap work” women) is that you’ve been given a bag full of crap, and that’s just life. Learn how to make the most out of the sour yel­low ovals life has put in your hands. Keep your head down and squeeze.

Though I haven’t had my epiphany and real­ized my life’s pas­sion, I have a real prob­lem with view­ing respon­si­bil­i­ties asso­ci­ated with a job as crap work. That think­ing imme­di­ately sours a person’s per­spec­tive and out­look on work. Hon­estly, I think if you view the tasks that come with your job, even those con­sid­ered drudgery or mun­dane, as “crap” there’s a chance that your growth and advance­ment will be seri­ously lim­ited. I couldn’t imag­ine work­ing for some­one who told me that I have to stop being happy and buckle down for the crap work. Talk about tak­ing all of the wind out of my inspi­ra­tion sail.

I am, in now way, sug­gest­ing that even if you pur­sue the thing you love that tedious, non-sexy, and cum­ber­some tasks won’t be par for the course. I merely think one’s view of these tasks will be tem­pered by their aspi­ra­tional goals. If you love what you’re doing, it is more than likely that you will be will­ing to get your hands dirty early or often, if needed. Fur­ther, pro­ject­ing your dis­plea­sure with encoun­ter­ing “the crap” on the road to some­thing bet­ter, poten­tially robs the other per­son of his or her joy. I sus­pect that one of the lead­ing causes of this per­spec­tive is a desire by some/many peo­ple to leapfrog the trenches and land on higher ground. So many peo­ple want the higher job, the higher pay, the higher stature in the office or orga­ni­za­tion, think­ing that defines happiness.

I dare say that most peo­ple, and I include myself in that group, aren’t really on a path to pur­su­ing our true pas­sion. We make excuses and jus­tify walk­ing around like plugged in souls in the Matrix. I used to talk myself out of enter­tain­ing the idea of becom­ing a full-time pho­tog­ra­pher, writer, or any­thing else I’ve dreamed of becom­ing. Life’s in the way. Bills. Kids. Respon­si­bil­i­ties. Life just gets in the way. There’s not time to day­dream, let alone find time to bring a pas­sion to fruition, right? Not so fast. Check out this video by my friend Gary Vayn­er­chuk.

The mes­sage? Stop mak­ing excuses. The first step, though, is dis­cov­er­ing what really gets you going.

The con­ver­sa­tions I over heard have been cir­cu­lat­ing in my head since last week. Inter­est­ingly, the neg­a­tive energy ema­nat­ing from that table inspired me. Those con­ver­sa­tions, cou­pled with start­ing the book Alone Together, have really forced me start think­ing about my out­look on my cur­rent job. I spent most of the week­end try­ing to see if I can put my fin­ger my true pas­sion, as well as focus­ing on engag­ing with peo­ple in a more mean­ing­ful, tan­gi­ble and gen­uine way.

As for crap work, I’ll leave that to these guys.

when i grow up…

Remem­ber when we were lit­tle, and you would utter “When I grow up, I’m gonna be…?” Whether prompted by a teacher, par­ent or rel­a­tive, we usu­ally had an answer ready at the tip of our tongues. As I write this post, lis­ten­ing to some music and com­ing into a clear after a cou­ple glasses of wine, it struck me that I feel like a big kid. I was think­ing about the var­i­ous turns my “when I grow up” pro­nounce­ments have taken. Some of those dreams, iron­i­cally, have come full cir­cle.


Going back as far as I can remem­ber, I seem to recall want­ing to be an artist and writer when I grew up. I used to find a quiet space and write short sto­ries. I would always leave oppos­ing pages blank for illus­tra­tions. A lot of the sto­ries were about trav­el­ing across the coun­try in a tricked out con­ver­sion fan, explor­ing all the places I would read about in books. Funny, because the thought of rid­ing around in a van sounds a lit­tle creepy. I digress.


At some point, the art would over­take the writ­ten part of the sto­ries. I became con­sumed with all forms of art, and knew I wanted to be an artist of some sort when I grew up. I was rarely with­out col­ored pen­cils, crayons, chalks, water col­ors, brushes and paper. I never ven­tured into acrylic and oil paint­ing, though I try my hand at them in art camp. YES, I said it. I went to art camp in the sum­mers when I was a kid. I was seri­ous!


Though I played my share of sports in junior high and high school, I never had dreams of becom­ing a pro­fes­sional ath­lete. I main­tained my inter­est and love of art. In high school, I began to express my artis­tic voice through more tech­ni­cal representations—drafting. That’s it! I want to be an archi­tect when I grow up. I took every draft­ing and ren­der­ing course offered. I went to a num­ber of career fairs and would only apply to col­leges with accred­ited archi­tec­ture pro­grams. I got to col­lege and ran into a brick wall called cal­cu­lus. Uh oh! It was time to reeval­u­ate what I was going to be when I grew up because there was NO WAY I was get­ting through cal­cu­lus. (Of course, in hind­sight, I gave up too eas­ily. How­ever, there was a lot of sh*t going on with me at that time. But that is a topic for another time.)


I took some time off and even­tu­ally reen­tered col­lege. I went major­less for a year, or so, until I stum­bled upon Eng­lish. Though I enjoyed the lit­er­a­ture com­po­nent of the major, I really loved the writ­ing courses. There I was, back to writ­ing. Eureka! I want to be a writer (again) when I grew up. Well, to be more accu­rate, I started to enter­tain the idea of teach­ing lit­er­a­ture and writ­ing schol­arly papers. I began to roman­ti­cize to idea of roam­ing around a col­lege with a tweed jacket and cords. I stopped short of a don­ning a beret, though.


For some rea­son, I drifted off the artis­tic course and got into pol­i­tics and the law. I took on the almost cliché path of so many in DC. Work on the Hill. Go to the law school. Go down­town to become a lob­by­ist and ‘make that money.’ (Shame­less ref­er­ence to a pre­vi­ous blog piece.) Even­tu­ally, I made my way to where I am now–a reg­u­la­tory coun­sel at a fed­eral agency. Though these expe­ri­ences have been good for pro­fes­sional growth and pay­ing the bills, I’ve always felt a notice­able void of artis­tic expres­sion. I’m sure col­leagues from any of the jobs I’ve held over the nearly 20 years in DC would tell you that I’m always draw­ing or doodling–and not always at the right time. Through all this, I never once thought, “I want to be a lawyer, politi­cian or lob­by­ist when I grow up.“


A num­ber of yeas ago I was seek­ing an emo­tional and cre­ative out­let to take my mind of some heavy things I was going through. I went through a num­ber of fits-and-starts with artis­tic expres­sion. First I enter­tained the idea of becom­ing a writer again. I started to read a num­ber of books and mag­a­zines on devel­op­ing my voice. Per­haps I hit a seri­ous block, but I couldn’t find the focus to write. Frus­trated, I strolled through art gal­leries almost daily. I went to the library and began to look through great pho­to­graphic works. On a whim, I bought a film cam­era on eBay and started shoot­ing. I took a cou­ple of classes to learn the con­trols of the cam­era and how to develop film. Soon came another the pur­chase of another film cam­era, and then dig­i­tal. I am con­vinced, at the ten­der age of 43, that I want to be a pho­tog­ra­pher when I grow up.


I am encour­aged by my wife and count­less num­bers of other peo­ple who are career-changers. These are peo­ple who didn’t suc­cumb to fear of cast­ing off the expec­ta­tions of fam­ily, friends, and com­mon social con­ven­tion to pur­sue a dream. Now, I am putting as much of my time into learn­ing the craft and devel­op­ing friends and net­works within the com­mu­nity of photographers.  I can’t help but see the thread of art and writ­ten word that has run through my life. I have begun to won­der, if life has sim­ply come full cir­cle and my pho­tog­ra­phy is my art and main­tain­ing a blog is my writ­ing.


In the end, though, I think one of the key things to remem­ber is that you don’t have to “grow up.” There’s absolutely noth­ing wrong with keep­ing that child-like excite­ment about, and inter­est in, becom­ing _____ in due time. I sus­pect most of us have some­thing we want to do, but too often we sup­press and get caught up in the thing we think we have to do. It’s never too late, though. Pur­sue your pas­sion.


What do you want to be when you grow up?