Hobby, in Pursuit of Life
Where could I find purpose? It surely wasn't from cycles of Zoom job interviews that terminated in Zoom exit interviews. How did we shift so much of our identity, purpose and meaning into working on the next shiny product being sold to prospective shareholders?
It’s just shy of noon and a meeting invite comes across my inbox. We know it's coming, but not the scope nor the depth. A software developer in my group, relatively new to the company and the ongoings of a not-quite-start-up faltering tech company, asked if I knew what was going on, should he be worried? I knew we were getting laid off, but I couldn’t tell him.
I pulled something like “If it does happen, it’s not your fault. Do not take this as a reflection of your self-worth or quality,” out of my ass. The spreadsheetcost center analysis had found our employee IDs. It was all over but a rambling explanation from an interim-Chief Technical Officer to paper over what was always a private equity turn-around project.
We were out. Five days (all-inclusive, not business days) of remaining insurance coverage through the end of the month and 3-weeks severance. Six months of wondering if and when bonuses were off and lay-offs were coming had arrived at its logical conclusion. The authors of reality are rarely subtle. Being my 3rd round of lay-offs since April of 2020, this was almost a welcome relief. And yet, somehow I was not prepared for the onset of malaise trailing another loss of stable income and medical insurance.
Where could I find purpose? It surely wasn't from cycles of Zoom job interviews that terminated in Zoom exit interviews. How did we shift so much of our identity, purpose and meaning into working on the next shiny product being sold to prospective shareholders? Who convinced us that finding a reason to get out of bed each morning was wrapped up in our employer’s year over year growth?
The boss knows there's no inherent reward for burning a candle at both ends. The boss is a cyclist, an “avid golfer", knows the hip spots to eat around town. Their unlimited paid time off doesn't collect dust. Rest and respite sit atop the mountain that workers attempt to summit and not without costs. Investments that are all at once financial, emotional and physical. Extra energy to spend hustling old hobby trash for gold. Fending off Craigslist scams and low-ballers. Leveraging nearby loved ones to should just enough of the childcare burden that band practice requires. Without spare cash and flexible, focused time: the pursuit of hobby seems almost unobtainable.
But it’s a pursuit that brings you life. A chore to do only for yourself. Where we hone expertise hoping only to say, “Am I having fun? Yes, I am.” Herein lies hobby. Time logged behind the wheel of a parked car. A grand journey to nowhere. A road to discovery of not only the self, but our place in communities of sharing, collaboration and joy.
Please join us as we endeavor to finding meaning in life through fucking around. This is the pursuit of getting nowhere and enjoying the ride.
