I came of age at a time when being happy in your work was not a particularly important objective for anyone. Or, at least, for very few people.
That was not to suggest that people didn't feel good about being happy at work, it was simply a statement that you didn't go to work for the purpose of finding fulfillment and happiness, you went to work to earn a paycheck so you could support your life. Happiness was an unexpected and unplanned coincidence, if it happened.
By the time I got to university, the idea of finding "fulfilling" work and doing something you felt passionate about was starting to gain a little more traction.
I still pretty much followed the old school, in the sense that I was trying to go to work at something that I could earn a living from, but in doing so I didn't feel entirely convinced that I was doing the right thing, anymore.
I only worked in a "conventional" sort of career for about 5 years before I sincerely started questioning what I was doing.
Sure, my life had the outward appearance of success, but if that was sincerely the case why wasn't I feeling good about the situation? Was I really just supposed to "grin and bear it" until retirement age?
The dichotomy between this idea that I was successful and the fact that I didn't feel good about my life grew to such a gaping chasm that I actually ended up in therapy so as to talk myself through the issue.
Even though I was quite well paid, it seemed like a meaningless exercise in doing something I didn't really believe in, all for the purpose of making some executives and a bunch of investors happy. Or, at least, help them build their wealth.
Meanwhile, this idea that "having all the stuff" would somehow make my life better was quickly proving itself to be a massive falsehood. Of course, the late 1980s were a very material time, as well as the time that invented the term "yuppie," which is perhaps quite similar to the term "Finance Bro" today.
Anyway, I came out of my first period of therapy with a better understanding of the fact that I wasn't really motivated by the same things as the majority of people. Somehow, it was more important to me to feel good about myself and about life than to have a bunch of material things to show off to the world.
Don't misunderstand me, I have nothing against money. I just can't get behind the relentless pursuit of it, and I can't get behind making it the most important thing in my life. Which is my way of saying I don't much care beyond being able to afford my basic bills in life.
According to my therapist, the majority of my peers — it would seem — used material wealth to differentiate themselves from others. I was more interested in having nice friends and doing things I really enjoyed.
In retrospect, some of my background culture growing up in Denmark was starting to show because the very things I was deciding on as being important were very much what society around me had imparted when I was in grade school even if it was not the value set of my parents.
Of course, this does not necessarily answer the question of whether passion matters at work.
As most to read these pages no I am self-employed, and I am definitely doing things I really enjoy. But for much the same reason as my discovery 35 years ago that I didn't have the same value set as most people, what I really enjoy and feel passionate about isn't necessarily something that translated well as sources of income.
That's a rather long-winded way of saying that I get to do what I'm passionate about, but the price of admission has been that I'm relatively "poor."
Does that actually bother me?
It definitely didn't used to, but as I am aging and realized that I was never successful enough to build much of a nest egg all I can really do is be grateful for the fact that I'm doing things I'm passionate about because of most likely I will be doing them until they carry me out in the pine box!
Thanks for stopping by, and have a great remainder of your week!
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2026.04.14 02:04 PST
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