Transcending Mediocrity
I recently started a new job and I thought it’s only fair to update medium before LinkedIn. Brownie points, anyone?
About the new job — it is a much wider role than my previous one, so a lot more responsibility. The opportunity is truly exciting and that’s why I decided to take the leap. The logic part seemed in place, now I need to see if the faith part pans out too.
So, a couple of weeks in the new role, I haven’t experienced enough to say that it’s a good move, but judging solely by the peripherals (salary, perks and benefits) it seems like a leg up. My friends and family tell me that I’ve done well for myself, but as I was boarding a long haul business class flight for the first time in my life, I found myself thinking that it’s hard to accept that.
Why?
I think, maybe, it’s easier to get things that you never really care too much for. For me, although I give my 100% to my job, at some level there’s a detachment from it. I care, just about the right amount, I think. This lets me be a little more spontaneous, a little less analytical. And the amount I am less analytical helps me avoid the analysis paralysis which is typical of me for things I care deeply about. Hint: it’s writing. Sorry, that wasn’t a hint. I just gave it away, didn’t I?
In January this year I completed my second novel, which is a young-adult adventure/comedy. I quite like the draft manuscript (‘of course’, I hear you think). But I am having a hard time with trying to find a home for the book. It’s not easy, you see. Especially given that I am not half as talented as the greats and I am not even giving 10% of my time with the pushes and pulls of the work place.
When my first book got published, 6 years ago, I felt it was the coolest thing ever. I felt invincible and on top of the world. Now, that seems about as distant as a dream of ever publishing a book that I once had. The fear of being a one-book writer has started sinking in. And point being, I find myself focusing on this part more than the good things on the job.
With this second novel, I feel like I really poured myself into the book and failed. That hits hard, doesn’t it? I feel that because the job stuff, for me, ticks on the side, I get things. A measured irreverence is good for us. It creates enough of that swashbuckling attitude that you need to be good at things.
Now, one way to look at it would be that it’s not a complete failure. Writing a book is a creative process. It is a subjective and a risky undertaking. Not pouring myself into it would have been a certain failure. But not being able to publish could have still turned me into a total worry wart and a nut, had I been pursuing it full time. I did transcend mediocrity in some sense, but that’s never enough. You want success in the things that really matter.
That brings me back the purpose of writing this article: for those of you who are pursuing their passion full time, you need to try and not be too hard on yourself.
Pursuing your passion, full time especially, comes with it’s own bag of stress. Everthing seems really critical and every slip up feels like you are dropping the ball. And the pains from not being able to succeed all the time feel nothing like you’ve ever experienced before or thought possible. Pains that permeate your flesh, bones and organs and strike at your soul. But pains that also remind you that you’re alive. That you are doing the one thing that makes sense. The pain that’s also sweet in some masochistic, but romantic, way. And for that, we need to learn to be happy. This pain is one of the most beautiful things we’ll feel in our lifetime. So cherish it. There’s nothing that can replace it if it’s taken away, for example by giving up the pursuit. Life will feel shallow without it. But you know that already, don’t you?
Now a part of the problem is also understanding and accepting the fact that you are pursuing your true passion. I am not sure yet exactly why we sometimes don’t want to accept this. It may have something to do with the fear of committing to it. The fear is natural because you don’t want to feel more stressed than you already do. You want to maintain a certain degree of deniability in case it ever gets too much and you want to quit. But if you are doing what you wanted to do and it is a true passion for you, say that with pride. Commit to it with words because you’ve already done so in spirit.
I do understand the logic that it’s not a simple yes or no question as to whether what you are doing right now is your one true passion or not. You might really like what you are doing right now, but you don’t feel like it’s engaging the whole of you. You might feel like you have more to give, and hence must continue the hunt for the big one. You allow yourself a certain degree of constant dissatisfaction so that it doesn’t hinder your quest. But it’s not necessary that you’ll find it. So, I think it is fair to have a time-specific passion. So let’s say, that between 26–32, I am going to be super passionate about public health, for example. I am going to make my job my one-true passion, because I do enjoy it a lot. Nothing has ever made me want to commit myself voluntarily to this degree and the work truly engages me — intellectually and spiritually.
But when you completely embrace it, never should you ever say that you don’t know what you want from life. Stop, at least briefly, looking for that elusive one true passion and pour yourself into your current passion. Once you commit to the current passion, the way of life it affords, you can proceed to the next stage — now that I have all that I ever wanted, how do I find peace in it?
It is critical to get to that question first. Because without that, your brain will always tell you that giving up this way of life, this current job or short term passion up is the easiest answer. That is also sort of obvious — because you don’t have to get to level 2 (the ‘finding peace’ part) at all. That level 2 is tough, isn’t it? And there’s a lot of trial and error to go through in finding an answer for that. It’s understandable how that’s not a tempting option for the brain. At least mine is geared towards always finding the path of least resistance and chilling! How many times have you heard yourself or your friends say — “Man, this job is sucking my life out of me! I can’t continue like this!” You start making plans to move on, but nothing outside seems to be better than what you are doing right now. You keep looking out, adding to your worries and your stress, but never really leave. That energy could have been spent looking for answers to the existing worries, allowing you to be peaceful and happy while pursuing your passion. And who knows, it would even let you realise that what you are currently doing is your one-true, long term passion as well. You owe yourself that chance.
It’s critical, hence, to commit yourself. Understand exactly where on the decision tree you are — level 1 (“do I want to continue with this current project/job/field of work or not?”) or level 2 (“I am committed to this passion for now, how do I find peace?”).
And after that, the answers follow.
