Once Upon A Time... Once upon a time I worked every weekend. Saturday and Sunday were just another day of the week. Back then I used to think that people who got to go shopping at the mall on Saturday afternoon or go see a matinee Sunday morning had “made it”. Once upon a time I use to have to check a piece of paper that was posted next to the time clock to see what my “schedule” was going to be every week. Back then I used to think that people who could make plans further than one week out had “made it”. Once upon a time I worked in a place where no one had pictures of their families or significant others on their desks, on their walls or in their cubicles because either they shared their workspace with other people or because turn-over was so high that they never bothered to plant roots. Back then I used to think that people who had pictures of their children on their desks or had their own offices that they could lock when they went home for the day had “made it”. Once upon a time I was never invited to sit in on conference calls. Only managers and supervisors ever got invites to conference calls. Back then I used to think that if you were somebody if you were required to be conference calls everyday. That’s when you knew that you had “made it.” Once upon a time anytime I ever applied for a credit card, a car loan, or even to get a lease for an apartment I always needed a cosigner. Back then I used to think people who could fill out an application and not have to find someone to cosign for them had “made it”. Once upon a time I used to drive by this one condominium association everyday on the way to work. If I had time I would drive through the neighborhood and I say to myself that the people who live in that place have “made it.” Well eventually I bought a condo in that very neighborhood I used to drive pass everyday on my way to work. I didnt have to check a schedule posted by a time clock before I made dinner plans. I started sitting on conference calls 5 days a week for one project or another. I rarely ever worked weekends. I had an office with my name by the door. I even had a window. I decorated every wall with framed comic book posters. And I had pictures all over my desk of my family. And no one ever asked me to get a cosigner anymore. The irony is this. When I wasn’t making a dime, I had job security. I could’ve kept that job as long as I wanted it. I traded job security for making decent money. Decent money helped me pay my bills, repair my credit and get into that condo I coveted, but now I could get a phone call at anytime telling me that my position has been eliminated because the company has decided to move in a “new direction”. When I wasnt being invited to be on conference calls I was only responsible for myself and my work, now that I’m on these conference calls everyday I am being held accountable for things I am not necessarily responsible for. I never made it. I never “made it” because my mode of measurement was all wrong. “Making it”, was never about having an office, whether or not you can make plans further out than one week or if you get invited to sit on conference calls. Making it isnt even about how much money you make. One day something happens and you realize that happiness isnt waiting for you behind the door of an office with your name on it. The secret to “making it” is loving whatever it is that you do day in and day out. Making it, like everything else, is essentially about being true to yourself. When you love what you do happiness is wherever you are. What I didnt understand then but I understand now is that when you love what you do, you won’t care if you work weekends. You won’t care if you’re schedule isnt set in stone. You won’t care if you have an office or if you need a cosigner to get an apartment. In light of recent events, I have realized that it is about time that I ask myself what it is that I want to do with my life before circumstance knocks on my door and forces the issue. For me, at 42, this isnt not about doing whatever it takes to get or keep “a job” anymore. It’s about finding something that you LOVE to do so much that it doesnt seem like work when youre doing it. So I have decided that sooner than later I am going to go back to school, but this time, I won’t be going to school to get “a job” but to get training and prepare myself to do something amazing with what time I have left. I am going to ask myself, “What is it that you want to do?” and whatever that answer happens to be is the direction I am going to move. I want to be able to say that once upon a time I thought LOVING what you do, whatever that something is, meant that you had made it. And I want to be able to say from experience, that I was right.
Posted on: Sat, 01 Nov 2014 18:45:58 +0000