I’ve been struggling with feeling motivated for a while now, when it comes to work. And as much as I’d like to say it’s my current job, the reality is that there’s an undercurrent that has been building up throughout the years, and my present situation is just circumstantial at this point. Should I pack up and leave and find the golden land of endless opportunities and cool-people™, my current impression (and, to be frank, legitimate fear) is that I would bring misery with myself there. The idea I’m toying with is that while leaving has always been an option, if I want to feel better, I have to be willing to “fight” for my patch of land. And this means staying long enough in a place to be able to say, “I did this,” and by extension, “this is me.”

My understanding of people is that we’re defined by our actions, and words are the Greek chorus that happens in the background, that might be helpful, or might be noise. Looking back at my actions, I can see the narrative of discomfort being a driving force that takes me from place to place, which sounds like a never-ending escape, when the discomfort comes from within.

There are these phrases I’ll say early on when flirting with a new job. It may be in the very first interview, or when I’m talking with the team or a higher-up in the managerial chain. I think they’re truths about me, and it would be beneficial for both parties to agree on a contract with these things in the open to avoid surprises. I’m also not naive, and I realize that as much as I risk myself, I’m putting the ball in the court of my employer, evaluating how they respond. People often think that they should lie and edit big chunks of themselves for professional settings, while I think there’s a lot more power in weaponizing truth.

“I’m like a kid, when it comes to curiosity and drive. I will be quite driven to find answers and to figure things out, because that’s what I enjoy. The downside is that when I’m doing work I find boring, my ability to produce good work suffers enormously.” “I’m ok with not knowing stuff, and asking silly-sounding questions at first, because I expect to learn. So I hope that you’re ok with me being an expert that doesn’t sound like an expert.” Now, the sentences could paint an attractive quality about me (oh, he’s got curiosity and grit; we want that in someone dedicated to investigating stuff), but they also say I’m self-aware of my limitations. At least, I hope so.

And lately, I’m thinking of adding one more sentence that doesn’t feel finished yet:

“I struggle to find the connection between what I produce and the value that it brings to others.”

You could pick apart the sentence and ask for clarification on terms like “value,” “struggle,” and “production”. And trust me, I’m not entirely sure about the deeper meaning of the words at this point.

I know that value is a relative term, and companies will primarily measure value in a monetary sense. I also know that in the last couple of years, my most “valuable” contributions in terms of joy and enjoyment brought to me were small tasks that just removed hours of human work from colleagues via automation. I’m not usually proud of what I make, but I remember the pleasure of spending 3 hours automating a process for a colleague that had to spend nearly 8 hours per week running manually. Did this free an entire day for her to get exploited in some other way? For sure! But she hated the task, and I could feel the lazy guy inside of me saying, “There’s got to be a way…”

If I want to communicate properly, then I should define the terms more clearly. I’m measuring value as the immediate impact my work brings into the lives of my immediate colleagues.

Ultimately, my issue is one of alienation. Maybe not between me and my product directly, but between me and the effect of my labor on others. Maybe the sentence should read:

“I work best when I see the impact of my labor, so I’d like to ensure I can follow up on people after I’ve worked on a project with them.”.

It’s still missing that “the ball is in your court now” energy, that I’ve found so useful. I’ll tinker on it.