Most of us know what it’s like to go to work, to punch in and settle into a routine. We understand why we work, why it’s a necessity, and what it means if we don’t work. The hours we put into a job, whether we like it or not, are a few hours that we keep ourselves and our family from being on the street.
Some people are very comfortable, they do minimal work for maximum profit. Others do maximum work for very little profit. I’m not here to talk about the discrepancy in pay since I understand that it exists and by all means should not. Nope, what I’m here ranting about is the simple fact that what we do each day is meant to be fulfilling. It’s meant to do something, to make life a little better, maybe a little easier for someone else.
You ever think about that? Each and every time you go to the market, to the gas station, or anywhere else you happen to work, someone is there to at least try to make your life easier. You will do it for them too when they buy whatever you sell or use whatever service you happen to provide. Many people don’t seem to realize this and go about their day with tunnel vision, seeing only that which pertains to their own life in the here and now.
Open your eyes once in a while. Understand that your contribution is no more or less than anyone else’s. It doesn’t matter if you dig ditches or run a business that employs thousands of people, what you are doing matters. Even if you can sit and tear your job apart until it makes little to no sense, there’s a reason why you do it. It matters on some level because otherwise you wouldn’t be doing it.
Take my life for an example. I write articles and academic papers for students and businesses that either don’t have the time or inclination to write it themselves. In effect I make other people look by producing work that they then pass of as their own. It’s a mind-numbing and very thankless job at times, and it doesn’t always pay what it’s really worth, but I do it because it does pay, and it does allow me to do something I love to do. I am helping people by providing a service, and I do something that matters.
But that’s not the fun in my day.
I have another job as well, and that’s being a dad. Sure my kids scream on occasion, throw fits, and even act up just because they can, but overall I feel lucky to have this job, because once again I am doing something that matters. Writing is a way to pay the bills, to enjoy myself, and to keep whatever sanity I still have left. But my kids are the fun within the day that don’t need much more than my attention, and the payback I get is a helluva lot better than any company I’ve ever worked for. The fun in my day is seeing the smiles on my kids’ faces, and knowing that one day, they too will know how to make whatever they do matter.
The fun in my day is knowing that one day, my kids will know what their parents did to keep them safe, and will do the same for their own families.