Life, Cubicles, and the Pursuit of Happiness
Maybe it’s time to think outside the box.
You’re sitting there wondering what the hell you’ve been doing for the past four hours. And you’re absolutely convinced your half-eaten turkey sandwich is giving you the stink eye. Another lunch at your desk? You’ve really mailed it in now, haven’t you?
Crumbs have found their way deep into your keyboard like burrowed woodland creatures seeking respite from the winter’s chill as you slog your way through the endless afternoon. The weather outside is too perfect, but you’ve already gone for your walk, and those quarterly reports aren’t going to write themselves.
“Maybe I should follow my dreams” you find yourself wondering. How hard can it be? I mean, Steve Jobs did when he was high on acid. And he turned out alright. Then again, did he really do all that work? Did he, personally design the iPod? You doubt it… There’s no way. He’s probably like Jack over in accounts payable who takes credit for everything, and we all know Jack doesn’t even know how to use the copy machine. (hah! what a loser)
And with these thoughts, the old film reel you’ve been playing in your mind for the past few months kicks off and your productivity this afternoon — inevitably and instantaneously — grinds to a screeching halt, as it always does.
Let’s see, where to begin… What have I always wanted to be when I grow up? Well, am I grown up…? When does that start?
Next thing you know, you find yourself back in Ms. Semple’s class in 1st grade. Paper skeletons adorn the walls, and plastic jack-o-lanterns decorated with stretched out cotton-ball “spiderwebs” set the spooky scene.
“How do I still remember this?” you wonder, “I can hardly remember what I had for dinner last night.” But there’s a reason. That party was special.
Why? Because you were dressed like a goddamn civil superhero in your full fireman costume with the exclusive plastic hatchet! You had your choice of whatever candy you wanted that year, because you helped people. You saved lives. This emboldened you as you strut your 52-pounds-soaking-wet stuff around the classroom that day.
And you miss that feeling.
“Maybe I could become a fireman!” you conclude with clarity, and you feel a warm flutter in your chest as the walls of your 6x6 cubicle melt away and you’re standing on a ladder, stoically, 34 floors above a New York skyline, holding a baby in one arm as you rappel down to safety…
There you go again, daydreaming— you tell yourself — just like your old AP Bio teacher used to say during parent-teacher conferences. “You see, he’s a bright student and very creative, however… he gets lost in the clouds every once in awhile.”
Just as promised, there you are — however-many-years-later — staring off at the fake plant resting upon your desk, lying suspiciously close to your sad, limp-looking turkey sandwich. When suddenly, you realize you’ve been caught-up in a pity party made for one. How long can this go on? Maybe you’re not happy right now, but isn’t it called work for a reason?
This job afforded you the opportunity to travel to Bali last summer! You surfed, explored the forbidden monkey forest, and met people from all over the world! This job allows you to live in the city. The big city. Where all your friends are, and the same one you’ve dreamed about ever since you outgrew the tree-lined streets of your placid hometown.
“Maybe Simon Sinek was wrong” you question yourself, maybe I don’t need to do what makes me happy every minute of my life. Or maybe I’ve misunderstood everything Simon’s ever said publicly…? Honestly, that’s pretty likely… Well, all this time I’ve spent wishing things were different, maybe I could have taken stock of my own career. Maybe I could have taken on an additional project and who knows where that could have taken me? Maybe I could focus on getting through my day so I can go home and work that film I’ve always wanted to write… I can even brainstorm on the train!
When suddenly, you feel hope.
This is a good sign.
Then you begin to think that maybe happiness is choice. Or perhaps it’s a perspective.
And with this, you begin to realize that maybe you can create happiness, even in the unlikeliest of places.
Like your 6x6 little cubicle. All you gotta do is think outside the box.
