Is the grass really greener somewhere else?
I was thinking about changing jobs again. That surprised me a little, as I’m pretty happy where I am. I’m working with a GREAT team of people, all of whom genuinely want to be there, working for this company, and enjoying life at work.
It’s simply that I don’t feel engaged by the actual work I do. As a result, I’m constantly thinking of other things I could be doing, instead. My task, at base level, is to sell, and to create ways for others to sell, as well. My days tend to be variations on that theme, making sure that the sales floor is attractive, neat, filled, and that my sales teams are up on product knowledge, fit of apparel, use of equipment, care and maintenance of items, and always seeking ways to make the client experience the best it can possibly be. While this is, indeed, the stuff of shopkeeping, I’m longing for a more creative bent to my time spent at work. In this world, the day-to-day workings of running a store are important for creating consistency, and like washing the dishes after dinner—even in a dishwasher—they can become routine; a task mechanically performed while your mind is at the beach, on you favorite hike, or with your best friends, and decidedly NOT on the dish in your hands. One of my favorite writers, the Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh, reminds us in his writings to be where you are, doing what you are doing, and simply be in that moment. And when I remember that, I am able to let go of so much, and simply be, letting go of the agenda in my mind, the ambitions I have, the ego which tells me—far too often—that I was meant for a higher purpose, and that I am wasting my time here.
And just thinking those thoughts, of ‘I’m better than this,’ or ‘I need more engagement,’fuels the slightest discontent like gasoline on a fire. Maybe those statements are true, but thinking or saying them does absolutely nothing to change the current situation. The only change is in my energy flow: changing from good or neutral to negative, and potentially poisoning my day, and that of my friends and co-workers. So, why would I go there? Because I like feeling sorry for myself? So that some undefined being feels bad for me and works to change things? Of course not. Despite the human tendency to revert to childhood self-involvement, and how easily we can fall into that trap when threatened or unhappy, it’s almost never the best way to deal with the hand life just dealt you. I will say, however, that pushing away the temptation to complain about how things are right now is one of the hardest things to resist. Which is why asking myself ‘Can I control or change this?’ is one of the best things I can do to keep a level head, breathe, and remember that I am working to create change, but that it takes a little time.
Yes. I am looking for more creative activities than what I do at work, but though my work does not give me the constant joy I seek—dare I say Nirvana?—does the writing and other creative work I long to do more consistently offer this? Not always, but I am still learning how to navigate that life, and this might be the ‘little inconvenience’ I need to show me the path to creating something else. Sometimes we need to buckle down and chop wood and carry water. Engagement—that word again!—is also a matter of perspective. By chopping the wood at hand, or folding the shirts, and simply being there folding the shirts, my mind is freed of so much anxiety, of so much judgement—of myself and others—and when I finish, I can move on to the next thing with a much clearer, relaxed outlook on everything, and usually with a new thought or two on something I am writing….
Initially, when I found out about a more ‘creative’ job with another company, all of my focus went to researching that position, the company, did I know anyone there who might be able to help or give me insight on how I might at least get an interview. I’d admired this company for while, as well as their story on how they came to be, and I pictured my new life there—carefree and engaging—and went through the application process, resume, cover letter, etc., and…nothing.
At all.
And I was okay. I entered my current position as an engineered transition period of my life. In the interview process, I was completely transparent, letting this potential employer know I wanted to join them because I saw it as a way to create time in my life—away from the job—to work on the writing and the music that somehow got lost in my previous positions. I had a lot of knowledge I could bring to them, while being able to create a more satisfying life for myself. And they loved it.
Is it perfect? Of course not. Certain things could be improved, while others could be changed in different directions. A great many things, however, are not in my power to control or change, and in knowing that, I’ve learned to be more open, experimental, and not to compare what I face with what I know. Knowledge, being gleaned from past success and failure, is dated, and I am now learning to look at the new situation with a different perspective. Now, a fresh, inquisitive look at the situation is needed to see the possibilities, rather than a look into my mind to see what I’ve learned in the past that might be similar to the dragon I now face: to look at the new idea, and visualize creating something new and better that the original concept might have promised.
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