How many days left?
My envy goes to people who find deep meaning in their careers. Having lived in a suitcase as a consultant, in the set straight from Panchayat (proof below), as a product manager of bleeding-edge-buzz-word soup, teaching math, physics and other eclectic career choices resulting from poor judgement, bad stars or both, I have meandered a bit professionally, but, I have never found anything that would make me go ooo maa goo turu lob. Don’t get me wrong, I work with some of the brightest minds, on some of the coolest problems one can think of and get paid to nurture some expensive hobbies. (Writing, for one, needs the luxury of time.) However, the romantic in me stills seeks something deeper.
For the past 5 years, this was an easy problem to solve. A set of events led me to seek a different passport and a lot of my blood, sweat, time, attention, sacrifices and money was deployed to work towards meeting the residency requirements. I haven’t got there yet but I have done everything in my power to be eligible. It was not easy. But I had a great support system. The occasional suffering had meaning. It had purpose. My close friends rarely started or ended a conversation without a polite question that was part-curiosity-part-encouragement-part-expression-of-absurdity, “How many days left?”
Now the days are done. Short version is that I was kicked out of the country, I made it back and have a back-up lined hopefully. The story is now stale. The hero’s journey is over. The character arc is complete. In my eyes, I can now bore any unfortunate soul with the details with this boring paper work if they find themselves caught in an awkward social situation with me or I can find more boring things to annoy them with in my monologues.
Going back to the envy I have for professionals who find meaning in their careers. Or faith. Or Community. Depending on whichever lens you take, there is a reductionist view I am going to take to explain the nuances. At work, this AI thing is getting everyone worked up on aspects of employability. It is an irrational fear, just like any other. To every hardworking individual, I’d ask, have you been in rooms with people above you? And the people above them? All the way up to the CEO, the board and the bankers who lent them money? The consultants who wrote their decks? One of my hobbies, separately, is to listen to them speak on earnings calls. It is all public information and let me tell you, most of them ain’t got no clue what is going to happen three years from now.
Take pandemic for example. In two weeks, the term “New Normal” was coined by someone at The Firm that was displaced by some other intern, and we went back to ‘RTO’ in a 3-year span. That is just a relatable example but if you listen to what “thought leaders” in your field were saying 3 years ago, you shall get my point. But no one should worry about losing jobs to AI. Have you met people in the several layers middle management? When principles of archaic feudalism meet late-stage capitalism minus the “thought leadership”, you are left with middle managers. Your jobs are safe, thanks to consultants, bankers, managers, leaders and thought leaders. AI can probably solve for cancer someday, but it cannot solve for human nature. We, as descendants of apes, need hierarchy to feel good about ourselves. It only works if you are unaware of it though. Too bad you read this. Same analogies can be drawn of faith and community. Drawing those parallels, is for homework. Basically, let’s call existential dread as x.
Given life is complex we assign meaning, x, some value. Job. Faith. Relationships. More the thought behind attribution, fewer regrets follow. In a late-stage-capitalism, meaning, x, for many lies in their careers. I used to work in consulting and a running rumor there was most current Partners were divorced and most retired Partners were dead as they had no purpose left after work. I say most. Also, I’d like to point out that I am not discriminating against divorcees or dead people. With a 3-person readership, I cannot afford to trigger anyone, especially the ghosts.
Like any entrepreneur, given how difficult that journey is if you want to make it to the Partnership, you have to believe in your own lies to get you through what it takes to go from a priest to a cardinal to a Pope, before people start kissing your ring. It is glamourous. Yes. I wanted it. Yes. It makes for a great LinkedIn profile, to list among your exes. People put you on a pedestal and worship you. It does not matter how many young lives were ruined behind closed doors for you to get there. It is like the narrative from the Nike ad, “Am I a bad person?” which justifies everything is acceptable so long as you win. If that is what you want, you have both my respect and my envy. Respect for getting what you want, envy for knowing what you want.
Žižek, one of the greatest living philosophers of our time described that his friend lost his wife and people found it strange and even suspicious that he was going about his life as if nothing happened. His friend went about his life, gardened, took care of his wife pet’s hamster and all seemed normal. Then one day, the hamster died. The story collapsed and there was no longer a lie to fall back on. Then Žižek goes ahead and asks the audience, “What is your hamster?” It is not at all rhetoric. He actually expects a response to “What is your hamster?”
Naval says that a successful person is a one who gets what they want with an implicit assumption that they want the right things. Anyways, I wanted this passport thing to happen. The journey was long. I enjoyed the ride, even the suffering. It had meaning. Suddenly there is a void. Meaning, x, is reset to NULL. The universe always was inherently meaningless. But as every other human, I have to invent some story for myself. I could borrow from capitalism, religion, philosophy but for whatever reason, DIY as a concept was always attractive to me. So was originality. As was art. We all have very limited time to heavily rely on borrowed templates. The way history has panned out, not all frameworks are reliable or even relevant. What gets you fired up? How do you attribute meaning to your suffering? Work? Faith? Family? Relationships?
For 5 years, my father rarely asked me how I was doing. All he wanted to know was, “How many days left?”
The answer is very few. For all of us.
(Moving away from Medium. Read future posts here.)
