Of a disgruntled Homo Sapiens trapped within a merciless system, a cage of our own making? Or a set of cruel truths that are innate to nature?
We’re born. We spend the first few years doing as our parents guide and direct. Then we go to school for 12 years, then perhaps further study of 3 or 4 years, then perhaps even more study after that. THEN, we’re told that we’re ready. We’re ready now to go out into the ‘world’ and get a job, why not? We’re fully qualified at this point aren’t we?
We spend the vast majority of our lives going to and from this job we’ve been told we need. We do need them, really. We need to earn money to put food on the table and clothes on our backs. Then, at the end of this, we retire. We end our jobs that were so much of our lives in the previous several decades. We have all this spare time to do whatever we desire. We travel to places we should’ve gone to when we were younger, we do things and take up hobbies we should’ve spent our youthful years doing.
We trick ourselves into thinking that we’ve had a life worth living. It sure didn’t feel like that when we look back and realize we’ve spent weeks of our lives in traffic, in queues, waiting for trivial things.
We ignore our real passions and desires because we’ve been told those things aren’t going to get you much money at all. What does get us money? The countless hours spent in your office, your factory, your McDonalds workplace.
We may be avid fans of drawing, painting, poetry or film. We put those things, those things that make us unutterably happy, on the back-burner. We ‘treat’ ourselves to our real passions, we schedule miniscule amounts of time for ourselves to be truly happy – watching films, painting pictures, writing poems. The things that make us innately happy are all too often brushed aside, all too often because the ‘boss’ says we’ve got to work overtime every day this week!
I’ve recently applied for a job at a classic car restoration place. The place is far away from my house, I shall need to drive at least an hour and a half every day to get there. But I love cars. I’m willing to drive there every day to possibly get a job working with cars. Bashing fenders, changing cylinder heads, painting bodies and drawing designs to be put up for consideration. This is honestly my dream job, and if I get it, I shall maybe, for once, not feel lonely nihilism, but perhaps I shall feel some kind of happiness. The issue here is of course, I would almost certainly not do this classic car restoration job for no money – certainly not at this point in my life. (my online email application for this job was a written piece of prose that I genuinely put hours and hours of effort into. If I don’t get the job, at least they’ll know I made an effort, right?)
There are a very, VERY few people on this Earth that get paid to do what they love. They are the lucky ones. Most of us simply have to plug away at menial jobs in order to continue living on this planet in a semi-comfortable way.
If anyone reading this has a success story, if you’re being paid to do what you really love, please leave a long and detailed comment that I can read and cry myself to sleep with each night! 😉
Bye, ladies and gentlemen.