If you enjoy your work, you're doing it wrong.
... he said, but I disagreed.
On our way back home, I was happy to immerse myself in the comforting silence of the car, but inside I was burning with anger. I was upset and enraged, my heart racing, hands sweaty and almost shaking. All my body did, was telling me these two things: that something had triggered me deeply and that for my nervous system it was too much, at too late o’clock. All I wanted was to go to bed, but instead my mind kept racing. Do you know this feeling? When you’re feeling alert, but incredibly tired. When everything inside you shouts: Run! Race! Quick! Faster! But it’s already late at night, it was an exhausting day and all you want to do is lie down to sleep, but you sort of can’t.
Well, what brought me there this evening was a discussion among friends. The evening had started out nicely – a gathering of people who have grown up together. Still, I was a bit nervous as I was the newbie of their group. I had thought about not coming a lot because it would basically be an occasion with too many things I usually don’t enjoy: lots of people I don’t know very well, people who lead incredibly different lives (they: fancy, settled jobs, big new houses, kids / me: side-hustling creative with the classical muggle-job (waitress) and childfree by choice). Kids would be there and people would chat a lot (loud noises). Nonetheless it was nice, the food was great, everyone was in a good mood, and I just did what I usually do – be rather silent and observe.
After a long while, when the air was filled with comfort and a slowly settling mist of overall tiredness, and you could notice that very soon things would be packed, jackets searched and everyone would find their way home, suddenly one of the friends, slightly drunken and overall an overworked and hurried human, brought up topics of work culture and employment. The tranquil mood changed due to his statements. Instantly, the air filled with tension, while arguments were made, and discussions started. It was then when my heart started racing and my mind joined in. When my hands turned sweaty and shaky. How could it be that ideas about hierarchy and toxic work culture even mingled in our friends’ group? All I believe about work culture and work-life balance was challenged that evening and it came when I was least expecting it.
You should only work for the money. Work, your job, shouldn’t be fun and enjoyed. When you’re sick, you can still work from your bed. Give everything you have to your job. Offering a job as an employer is a generous act, any employee should be happy about, not making demands. You serve the company you’re working for with all you’ve got. You are there to bring in more money, without getting something in return, as they generously offered you this position. Work hard and if that’s not enough work harder, as anyone can have a proper job, otherwise you’re just lazy. And above all and again: If you enjoy your work, you’ve done it wrong. You misunderstood the purpose of work. Joy and fun come elsewhere, afterwards, later.
My creatives heart and soul hurt and it’s still making me angry. When joining the discussion that evening, I quickly realised that it’s not for me to argue with a half-drunken person, while being sober and tired. Also, very likely, I forgot to breathe regularly and rhythmic for moments, while my body shut down to protect. How? Why? I still lack the proper words besides all the anger inside.
There is a notion of privilege attached to it. It’s a privilege to demand satisfaction from a job, to be able to not only work for the money. And by all means: not anyone can reach anything. For some people, even working the hardest won’t be enough because neither is our society all equal and fair, nor our work culture. I’m aware of all this, but hearing it from a white cis-male, who isn’t aware of his privileges at all, is just so incredibly annoying. Go off and inform yourself! Read books or listen to podcast! Start to think critically! Maybe I should have said this, shouldn’t I? Needless to say, I guess, that any comment or argument didn’t make any difference and comments by women were especially washed off, talked over, interrupted or the speaker was insulted.
What I’m still wondering is how most of the jobs would be done without any feelings of satisfaction, fun or purpose. While in the creative’s world, some people might like to imagine themselves as the torn creative, tormented by their craft, I certainly wouldn’t buy into this idea at all. Why do something you choose to do and can change that leaves you suffering? In general, as long as I have the ability and space to change my work, why would I stay with it, when it makes me feel bad? When I suffer daily and never feel satisfied or enjoy what I do. It's like giving burn-out and depression a free ticket to take you over anytime they want.
Moreover, what a waste of lifetime as well, to spend hours and hours a week just to earn money, waiting for “later” to arrive. To reach the end of your unsatisfiable to-do list, to cross off the days – one after another – while dreaming of better times. No one guarantees you a later or an afterwards. While I do see and understand that for some people it’s enough to have a job that suits them and that they overall feel good with, but which they would never call their biggest dream or anything close to it, I can’t get my head around why you shouldn’t want a minimum of purpose and enrichment from it. I don’t get it. Do you?
With such a discussion being spread out in front of anyone’s feet, the nice evening came to a sudden, unexpected halt. After tension wavered around for a while, annoyance, tiredness, and exhaustion started to crawl up from the edges. Quite soon, everyone got busy with saying goodbye and leaving. When getting out of the car, a final statement was made towards me: “Well Mareike, you’re such a creative mind and I would hire you immediately, if you would change your work-mindset” and I, upset, full of disbelieve and now feeling belittled as well, replied “Thank you, but I would never want to work for you.” Why should I? Excruciate myself?
For a long while now, I’ve been wondering why it affects me so much. Why I’m bothered as much and why it makes me so upset and angry. The whole conversation had triggered me in a way that little things do lately and I think, while writing and especially editing my essay, I figured it out. Originally, I thought it’s because I might have felt personally assaulted in my way of life, as I’ve always had to defend it and still have a few things to work through, but that’s not it. It’s my values. My core values of independence, equity and equality. I tend to forget about them and how much they influence me and my beliefs. They haven’t been violated directly in a long while, but I’m grateful for them showing up and giving me signs for what feels right to me and what doesn’t. Compass and anchor.
I’m wondering what came to your mind while reading my essay, so feel free to share your thoughts in the comments.
About me: I’m Mareike, the writer of this newsletter hills to heart. I’m also the writer of my free Studio Journal newsletter, my Studio Blog and an artist, trying to capture the world around me with oils, watercolour or whatelse comes my way. Recently, I launched my art online shop, which you’re welcome to explore.