What Do You Do For A Living?

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Originally written December 13th, 2022

“What do you do for a living?” 

A question we all receive. One I find challenging to explain. And I know I’m not alone in this regard. 

I received this question again yet other day from an acquantance, gave an answer that I’m not quite satisfied with….

First off, I think it’s worth acknowledging why the question is asked. Or, more pointedly, how your answer will be used.

I may be projecting here- but I think the question of what you do is less about what you do and more about who you are. The job you hold is interpreted as a key aspect of your identity - with assumptions drawn on you based on the title and field you work. 

So it’s less a question of what you do than a question of what makes you tick, how do you tick, where you/ do you fit in society, and what social class you belong to.

Based on this interpretation,  regardless of your actual job, I imagine there’s great value in how one presents him/herself. It’s all about selling… marketing… personal branding. You’ve heard all  the lingo.

Nowwww where the trouble rolls in is when your job is misunderstood by outsiders, devalued, or unknown.

For example, we all know forensic science from true crime TV shows, but we know only a very specific dramatized for TV aspect of it. I’m sure an actual forensic scientist could more accurately describe their work. But at least in this example - outsiders will be familiar with a positive depiction of forensic science as “cool”.  

Then there’s work that’s inherently devalued by society. For example, I worked in fast food for years before my first desk job. When I’d mention my experience in first food when applying for desk jobs, I’d sometimes receive a condescending giggle. “Tell me how those skills are relevant…” And while I likely didn’t present the job as well as I could have, I believe I was set up for failure regardless of my answer. The job was inherently devalued. And nothing I’d say could convince the judgemental interviewer otherwise. 

Now, my current job offers a new problem. While it’s not misunderstood or devalued, few outside the field have a handle on what the work is. It’s also not especially glamorous. Very niche. Unknown. And I’ve yet to find a successful elevator pitch that captures its essence.

Let’s give the elevator pitches another try.

I make websites money.

I make websites money using the ads on the page.

Hmmm. That feels vague. Boring. Like a huge simplification, but maybe that’s it?

I could dig deeper into what I do. The technology I work with - my day-to-day. Explain how ad space is monetized. Where I fit in. And specific optimizations I’m tasked with making. However, unless the person is especially curious, all the details become a daunting case of TMI/IDC.

Sometimes, I think about other career paths. Those that are highly relevant. For instance, one of my siblings works in HVAC. The fundamentals of which is well understood. Is my heat/AC working or not working? The value of which is appreciated by all. She can apply her skillset to help family or friends outside of work.  Ensure comfortable living conditions. Meanwhile, work such as mine is irrelevant to the ordinary person who doesn’t operate their own high traffic website… a very select few to be sure…

“What do you do for a living?” I’ve heard this plenty on social media as of late: your work does not define you.  We shouldn’t let our work define us. However, people will use your work to understand you. Your industry and workplace can become a community. Most people spend a significant amount of their life working. And the line of work you’re in determines income, which can impact quality of life.

I am more than my work. But my work is also essential to who I am, what I have access to, and how I’m thought about by others. Grappling with these ideas is challenging.

Will The Train Ever Stop?

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Originally written September 22, 2022

Here we are again. First day of something new. 

Will the train ever stop?

When will life settle? Do I really want life to settle…?

Last week, I kicked off a short solo trip - challenging myself to embrace the alone. Today I begin a new job opportunity. Tomorrow? Who knows what tomorrow will hold. All I can say is, at least for now, the train isn’t stopping.

My life is still developing. On the verge of 30 years, I feel as though I’m on the verge of old. It blows my mind that I graduated college six years ago and high school eleven. I have heard the 30s are good years. I imagine they are good years because, for many 30 year olds, life has start to come together a bit more. You’ve passed the rocky transition out of college and have hopefully found more steady ground in full-out adulting. A clearer career path. A greater understanding of adult life and your place in it.

I’ve definitely found more solid footing. But the train isn’t stopping. 

I now finally have my permit, not my driver’s license. I hope to get that soon. I live at home with family, which works for now, but not forever. I want to travel while I have the energy to do so, I aim to scratch that itch over the next few years.

The train isn’t stopping. 

I think these words as I also ride the express train into Manhatran. Embarking upon a new job journey. Entering this job, like all the rest, imposter syndrome- questioning my capabilities - but also determined to meet all the new expectations. Put my best foot forward, all one can really do!

I’m feeding my appetite for more work. More challenges. Upward mobility. Climbing the ladder up with limited thought as to what I’m leaving behind below.

Speaking of climbing, I hiked a ton this past weekend. Scaled mountains. Injured my knee in the process. Stuck limping around the days that followed. The second of two long(ish) lasting injuries I’ve experienced in recent months. A damning reminder that maybe my body is already unraveling. That my body is aging even if my soul feels young and full of ambition.

When I’m injured, I always realize how much of my life I take for granted and notice how inaccessible the world can be for disabled people. I’m grateful for the body I have, hope to nurture AND use it while it’s strong. Time to try trekking poles next time I’m tackling  steep elevation changes…

Will the train stop when it can no longer move? 

This question haunts me. The movement I crave- whether this be a new job opportunity, a new life mile stone, or hiking up a mountain - will this stop when I reach my limit? Will my values transform along with it or will I be devastated, unable to reach the peaks I hoped to?

The train ride is exhilarating. While it lasts. But will it end? What about when it ends? Do I simply catch a different train?

All I know is that I’m riding this one out. 

Progress naturally isn’t linear. Perhaps that’s an idea I’m glossing over. Sometimes, the train leads you the wrong way. Sometimes, YOU decide it’s the wrong train. You’re lost hiking in the woods, sweating profusely without a map, turning back after hours of effort and hundreds of calories burned. That fancy new job… doesn’t work out. Or your interests and values have evolved. Maybe you decide you don’t want to stray far from home after all. The beauty is- even through failure - your life is built upon an accumulation of experiences that arm you better for tomorrow. 

Maybe there’s always another train to catch if you look hard enough. 

I won’t stop looking.

First Day Of Work Part Two

I’ve worked at my job for almost eleven months. Today I meet my boss in person for the first time. Today I meet my office for the first time. Today - I get a taste of my future. But also my past…. Which feels so far away. The days when office life felt forever. An unshakeable routine. With perhaps a few remote days sprinkled in.

As my train pulls into the next station, I glance out the window to see a commuter racing in our direction. Will he make it in time or need to wait for the next? A familiar sight with no satisfying conclusion. I never find out. I’m left to wondering…

And wondering is also where I’m left anticipating the day to come. A day back in the office. A new office. With teammates I’ve developed relationships with solely over Zoom- how will these relationships translate to the physical world? Will they? Or are these teammates truly strangers?

Ahhh - eye contact. Eye contact is coming. I’ll admit I fidget and have always dealt with social anxiety, but have found plenty of coping mechanisms to manage/hide it. But I can’t help but wonder if I’m starting from square one when it comes to in person work interaction? How do I maintain eye contact? How do I relay focus? There’s now eyes around me. If I switch the tab on my computer or jot down notes, I’m being watched. Or at least I could be. I need to appear, engaged, productive, busy…. Paranoid, much? Perhaps. But I can’t help but feel much of the return back to office is all about optics. Visibility. Are you working/how are you working/who are you working with.

Now, onto the positives. At this moment, working from the office is optional. I opted in. It felt like the perfect excuse. I’m saying hello and goodbye to one of my teammates who’s moving onto new opportunities. I’m preparing myself for mandated hybrid work come June. I look forward to feeling more “involved” with my company and job. More part of a community. I’m hoping hybrid can help this along.

I reflect on positive in person working experiences I’ve had in my past, and can’t help but feel sad about everything I’ve lost. The people. The job. An office. The things that aren’t coming back. Ripped from my fingertips to never return during the height of the pandemic.

There’s now new people. A new job. And today - a new office. But it’s not the same. Can’t be the same .

Perhaps I’m traumatized because I never properly said goodbye to the past. I didn’t know March 2020 would be my last day at my old office - it just happened. I didn’t realize every single coworker I sat with would be forced to part ways with the company in the months that followed. I couldn’t say goodbye in person, give the people the send off they deserved. And when I left the job myself - I felt appreciated… excited for the new…. But maybe also a bit empty. Empty because the chapter never closed the way I’d have imagined it. I didn’t graduate. I jumped ship. The pandemic screwed everything up. Unresolved memories linger on.

Enough moping… I’m almost at my destination and want to stay grounded in the present.  Appreciate what’s now. Sure, it’s just people. A job. An office. Likely a stepping stone towards something greater. But it can end at any moment. And I want to be prepared this time around.

Photo by Unsplash

Nothing.

Originally written July 26th, 2021. 

I like to keep my life busy which is different than productive. I like to feel accomplished. Regardless of what I’ve actually accomplished. I like to enter Monday morning work with a story to tell- whether or not that story brought me joy.

My instinct is to move and shun stillness. Yet stillness fosters clarity and understanding. Sometimes, I don’t want clarity and understanding. Sometimes, I’d rather be distracted. Sometimes, you’ve spent so much time distracted you missed every opportunity…. I don’t want that to be me. Today, I am still.

Post-pandemic Paul is wondering why he isn’t satisfied yet. What happened to the glorious escape from quarantine? 

I don’t need anyone to make me happy. True happiness is independence. But what if that isn’t true? 

Time ticks by and I wonder what it’s like to feel old. My fear is that’s it’s no different than feeling young. What if future Paul is still waiting?

Yesterday, I did nothing. The day before that - less. Depends on how you define nothing, I suppose. I kept myself fairly entertained. I suppose that’s something.

You’re too hard on yourself/ not hard enough. Sitting their twiddling your thumbs wondering why nothing is happening. Depends on how you define nothing,  I suppose. 

I’m not unhappy. Just indifferent. 

Curious if today I’m making mistakes I’ll regret tomorrow. Wondering how I’ll cope at my next loved one’s funeral. Tormented by memories of an ICU ward and the knowledge that one day I too will take my final breath..

I’m not unhappy, I swear. I just think a lot about about my vulnerabilities. What it means to be human… and how this weekend is only one of many, experienced by so many others.

I am alive and for that I’m grateful. Stillness is valuable. “Nothing” is subjective. Time to cut myself some slack.

Disruptions/New Beginnings

Originally written May 30th, 2021

May 30th, 2021. I’m completely vaccinated, COVID hasn’t completely left us. Next week is my final week at my current job. New opportunities ahead.

It’s Memorial Day weekend, but the weather is crap. And I have nowhere to go. We (the family) will make the best of it, but I can’t help but wish I’d do more. Especially considering I’m finallyyyy vaccinated and have been eagerly waiting for this moment for far too long. Alas, this weekend is shaping up to be uneventful. 

I spent a year and a half hiding away during quarantine. I find myself at a crossroads with a desire to take a radical leap of faith, spread my wings, and soar. I like to think that this job change is just that. 

June 7th, 2021. The start of a new adventure.

Just because something makes you uncomfortable doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. In fact, because something makes you uncomfortable is sometimes exactly why you should do it. This is how I’m approaching this transition. This is also how many anxious individuals like myself are re-entering society post-COVID. Stepping out of our conditioned comfort zones and revisiting once routine joys we’ve since come to fear. Movie theaters... indoor dining... packed subway cars.... breathing freely without a mask in public.... all theses concepts feel so alien to me. Overnight, the CDC directives changed. Overnight, I’m completely vaccinated. Overnight, we completely lost over a year of our lives. And while that last point may be an exaggeration, it’s not as far from the truth as I wish it were. 

The past year and a half has shaken up the fabric of our existence. Perhaps you were not as paranoid as myself. Perhaps your personal routine changed less than my own. Regardless, the world around us has been disrupted in ways that recontextualize what it means to both live alone and apart of a community. 

It’s May 30th, 2021. In 2020, my world was disrupted, but it wasn’t derailed. Or perhaps it was - perhaps a derailment was exactly what happened and what I needed to pull my priorities in check and reestablish my focus.

I’m stepping away from dance. I tried this once before when I started college and failed. I turned my back on dance, but dance wasn’t ready to turn its back on me. Dance and I rediscovered one another. This time, in a new context and with a new found appreciation for one another.  A more intimate understanding of myself, my relationship to art, and self-expression. Dance filled in the gaps in my college life in a way I couldn’t have anticipated.

Fast forward to my next disruption - my college graduation in June 2016. The bubble bursts. Out in the “realer” world, stumbling around in the dark, hoping to find my footing in a full-time position aligned with my background and interests. I applied to countless jobs, found my way into two valuable internships before landing my first full-time office gig in the dance industry.

Today, four years later with work experience underneath my belt and my world disrupted by COVID, I’ve reached a new crossroads. While my line of work is adjacent to dance, it was never dancing. I can count the number of times I’ve attended a dance class since graduating on my two hands. I appreciated being apart of a community of like-minded individuals, but I was ready- determined- to dive headfirst into other passions and skills that I’ve developed in the workplace and would love to develop further. Passions and skills that I know can carry me forward into this next, necessary stage of my life. Independence. 

I’m stepping away from dance. But, this time around, I am NOT abandoning it.  I am not turning my back on it. Rather, I’m recognizing how my dancer identity has evolved beyond what it once was and also how it doesn’t define me. I’ve moved beyond technique classes, performances, and choreography. But I remain an artist, curious and adaptable, eager to take risks and explore the world around me. My mind, body, and spirit are built to move.  And so, I must remain in motion. And  in motion is exactly where I find myself in this instant as I take a courageous leap of faith from the familiar into the unknown.

May 30th, 2021. I’m completely vaccinated, COVID hasn’t completely left us. Next week is my final week at my current job. 

June 7th, 2021. The start of a new adventure. 

Had it not been for the pandemic, I’m not sure I’d be here. Or at least not so quickly. Despite all the anxieties that will greet me on the other side, I know this is the right choice. I’m a dancer. Prepared to push off the ground, defy gravity, and take flight. 

I’d like to close this reflection with an excerpt from an essay I wrote three years ago celebrating the one year anniversary at my job:

“Life is pretty f-ing great. But I also can’t shake the feeling that the best is yet to come... There’s a storm brewing inside of me. Ready to burst wide open, out, and into the world. Explode in the best way possible. My future is big, loud, and bright. I AM the thunder and the lightning.”

Watch me move. Hear me roar. I turn the page on this chapter with a smile on my face and gratitude for each and every disruptive paragraph that has led me to this current moment. New beginnings. I am ready.

Photos By Unsplash

February 7th, 2021

The new normal still isn’t normal. But feels strangely here to stay for at least the foreseeable future. I don’t about you, but what keeps me going is looking forward to the future feeling more like the past. But with this hope, I also wonder if all that I look forward to will be all that I’ve cracked it up to be in my imagination?

What if the other side I so desperately crave is not at all like we remember it to be? What if my optimism is playing games with my memory? What if the “good old days” were never as good as I imagine them to be today? What if I’ll feel equally unfulfilled on the other side of the mountain? What then?

We are in the middle of a terrible economic and health crisis. Lockdowns are grueling. On these fronts- I know the world will be in a better, more stable place on the flip side. But what about my personal happiness?

The new normal isn’t normal. Yet, somehow, I know I need to settle in. What if “this” is it? What if circumstances froze themselves?  I hate when people equate external circumstances with the quality of their life: that’s a dangerous game to play. If your happiness is tied to all that is beyond your control, you’re admitting you have no control where it matters most.

If you’re reading this, I challenge you to thrive in this moment. Let the chaos swirl around you, but don’t let it consume you. Inhale. Exhale. March in place. Towards this moment rather than away.

What does this mean? To me, this means I need to milk this moment for what it offers. Look forward less. Embrace the now. Thrive rather than survive. 

I need to stop hiding. Running away from my problems. Social distancing is important, but perhaps there are risks I can and should take for the improvement of my mental health. I’m irritated at the world... but maybe I need to brush this feeling aside and open back up. Reconnect with people. I feel stuck in so many ways- I need to take a deliberate step out of this cage I’ve built.  Plan for my future- even just in small ways. But much more important than plan, I need to act. 

The new normal isn’t normal. But it is my life. And with that, there’s plenty I am in control of. There’s plenty I can do now to better my quality of life. Why wait for a tomorrow that that may or may not exist?

Separate

Photo by Unsplash

Originally written January 27th, 2021

Does anyone know this feeling?

—

It’s demoralizing to scroll through my social media feed when all I see are extremes, and I don’t agree with anyone or trust anything. Were COVID-19 not a reality, I don’t think I’d even want to be around people right now. I’d much rather find a cabin tucked away in the woods far from civilization, wi-fi, and all the problems of today. Since I was a child, I’ve always been captivated by nature, stories of loners stepping away from society and living in the wild. Alas, I don’t drive and I’m not comfortable using public transportation during the pandemic, so I’m trapped at home like most people.

The world keeps rushing past me. Current events are hard to process. And, unfortunately, civil discourse is dead. You’re either good or evil. Black or white. For or against. Just or unjust. I appreciate asking questions. Learning. But ask too many questions or dabble in the gray area, and you’ll be rebuked. Branded as ignorant. Or worse, the enemy.

I can’t speak my mind. But I also can’t make it up. I haven’t found my footing. Sometimes, I’m not even sure my footing exists. Then again, it’s (another) COVID year. Nothing is right.  Not even my judgement, We’re all slowly going insane. Some more quickly and obviously than others. Perhaps, I’m a pioneer, ahead of the pack and past the point of no return.

I’m naturally a solution oriented person. I like when the puzzle pieces fit in my head. I’m happy to put in the work. But lately, the puzzle pieces don’t fit. Nothing makes sense. No one makes sense. I’m wondering if I’m missing pieces. Or if there are just too many...

My brain is exhausted. I need to disconnect. But I don’t want to miss out. When the world rears its ugly, toxic head, I can’t help but look. In fact, I stare. As a spectator, I’m entertained. The world is anything but boring. As an empathetic, rational human, I’m horrified. Everything- including my attempts to make sense, make peace - feels absurd. And the pathway forward feels more convoluted than ever. 

Perhaps, the cabin in the woods really is the best answer.... I won’t physically be there anytime soon, but I can dream. You may call that privilege. I’ll call this my survival.