The Happiest 15 Minutes of My Workday
“He wasn’t asking because he was curious; he was asking because he was confused. As in, “why do it if you get nothing from it?”.
Where I used to work there was a man named Ivan.
He sat beside me at the shared desk where my company worked. Most mornings when I arrived he would already be on his headset having a standup with his teams in New York and Ukraine. I would nod him a friendly good morning as I set my things down on my desk, to which he would return the greeting.
Around 10:30/11AM, I would see out of the corner of my eye Ivan hang up his headset. It was time.
“Sam, do you have time for some coffee?” he would ask in his thick Ukranian accent.
Without saying a word I would finish up what I was doing, grab my coat, and together we would walk the 20-second walk across the squeaky wooden floors of our office, down four flights of even squeakier steps, and out into the busy intersection of King and Spadina.
The destination was Soma, a stupidly relaxing coffee and artisan chocolate spot about two minutes from our office. Its windows typically portrayed young professionals and salt-and-peppered artistic types flipping through NOW Magazine articles while sipping out of small, white espresso cups.
The staff had come to recognize us and would offer a friendly “Hi, there!” as we entered. Walls of ornate packages containing spice-infused chocolate whizzed by as we would walk to the counter.
“Cortado.” Ivan would bluntly order, usually having to repeat himself.
I usually ordered an Americano, trying to convince myself in an act of masculinity that I liked the taste (I still order them to this day).
Drinks in hand, we would take our place among our fellow window dwellers. The best part of my day was about to begin.
Was it Ivan telling me about a new Chrome extension I could use to shave 3 minutes off writing SEO articles?
Or maybe the exchange of some NZT-like off-market drug only available in the logging camps of Siberia?
Nah.
Regular, imprecise, unmotivated conversation with someone not looking over your shoulder for the next, more productive person to talk to.
That’s all it was.
Nothingness — it worked for Seinfield
We talked about topical things like recent news and weekend plans, but most of the time I listened to Ivan speak about his background.
He had lived in the USSR, worked in Korea as a shipyard manager not knowing how to speak English (let alone Korean), learned how to program, spent years working remotely in the Cayman Islands, and now lived in Toronto with his wife and prized Roomba vacuum.
Every conversation felt like a snippet from a Joe Rogan Podcast.
I never felt like I was wasting someone’s time with my imperfect word choice or occasionally roundabout sentences. It was just two people talking with no other motive other than to talk.
As Ivan finished his cortado, he would slap his thighs, hop up to his feet, and slide back on his navy blue vest.
“Ready to go?” he would ask among the scraping sounds of stools being pushed back under the table.
If I was feeling confident that day I’d chug down whatever was left of my now room temperature americano. Most of the time I shamefully asked for a to-go cup.
After waving the baristas a farewell, Ivan’s parting words becoming less and less one-worded the more times we went, we would push open the cafe’s aged wooden door and emerge back into the screeching sounds of downtown Toronto. Back to the office we went.
These breaks lasted 15 minutes, 20 at most, but I would always return to the office feeling happier and more accomplished than when I’d left.
What’s the ROI?
I remember one day after coming back from coffee my boss asked me “Why do you grab coffee with him — what do you get from it?”. He wasn’t asking because he was curios; he was asking because he was confused. As in, “why do it if you get nothing from it?”.
The fact that I reaped no strategic benefit from grabbing coffee with Ivan seemed so foreign to him. And that’s what made me want to write this post.
Not to provide some sort of morning routine, personal growth tool, or five bullet takeaway (I can hear you clicking off now).
What I will pose is a suggestion:
Take 10 minutes out your day and put them towards something not inherently “productive”.
NOT PRODUCTIVE? YOU’RE TELLING ME TO NOT BE PRODUCTIVE AND RISK LOSING VALUE IN MY HUMAN CAPITAL?
I don’t mean to lay flat on the ground and stare into the carpet fibre. I mean do something not because people around you understand it as being inherently “productive” but because for you, and just you, that something produces real value.
My conversations with Ivan very rarely produced networking opportunities, exclusive access to tools or services, or any other outcome typically thought of as productive in the world of business.
They produced interesting ideas, open questions, different perspectives, heart palpitations from the caffeine, and, hey — this article you’re reading. To me, these outcomes were plenty productive.
(If I were trying to rationalize with my boss, I would also say they provided me with an elevated mood for the rest of the day which positively affected my job performance.)
I’m all for productivity as much as the next person. The drive to accomplish something better and faster is what results in most, if not all innovation.
What scares me is when inherently human moments– our coffee breaks with Ivan, become stigmatized.
Call me naive or lacking in entrepreneurial drive, but high ROI shouldn’t be a prerequisite for conversation.
Avoiding nihilism, questioning competency, building a career, mental and physical health – I write to help make sense of my life and it occasionally helps other people in the process.
If what I write made you grin, frown, think, laugh, cry, or roundhouse kick neighbour’s guinea pig, hold that clap button as long as creaturely possible.
If you do, I’ll sit down and watch the entire (extended) LOTR series with you. No joke.
If you find me tolerable, here’s another article I wrote:
