Pigeonholed

Seeing as the average person spends a third of their life at work – it is quite important to find happiness at our place of employment.

Roughly thirty years – or more as the pensionable age draws further and further into the distance – of our entire lifespan will take place whilst we toil for currency.

Work ensconces itself in every nook and cranny of our life and dictates to us. We tell ourselves repeatedly that it is a means to an end, that the rainbow at the end of the path is drawing nearer.

Most of us envision that beautiful end as those golden-hued days, when our employment charitably lets go of the reins which bind us, allowing us to imagine an existence where we are not tethered to duty. 

Responsibilities are shed and we can enjoy ourselves. This liberation also serves as a timely tap on the shoulder from the very companies which hire us – telling us that these halcyon days are only achievable thanks to a job well done.

How often can we ourselves claim to have achieved job satisfaction? To those who don’t have it, it seems like a rumour that has done the rounds in the canteen. Apparently Brian from accounts once had it – or at least that’s what he tells everyone. He also said he’s been to Richard Branson’s private island too, so take what he says with a pinch of salt.

Ask yourself this:

When leaving your place of work at the end of the day or night and what are your overriding feelings? 

Are you consumed by the shopping list you must fulfill so the kids have lunches in the morning? 

Are you thinking of the next episode of that series you’ve been ravenously watching? 

Or is it just the serene thought of your bath and silence that is quickening your step as you leave?

What often fades as we manage to escape the clutches of labour is what we have just been doing for eight, ten or more hours. 

For us who pursue job satisfaction like the Holy Grail, the notion of just paying the bills isn’t enough. 

We want more.

We want to start a day at work and throw ourselves into the challenges that lay in wait. We want those hours that normally double in length to stay that way so we can achieve more.

So what is the ingredient? Well, we must enjoy our vocation. We can be pumped to try and prove ourselves day in, day out – but if we cannot abide what we do then that enthusiasm will wilt quickly..

What of those who are already pigeonholed?

The confines of employment seem to shrink as we start their shift, and only allow breathing space when it is time to clock out? 

To start out on a new path as the manacles around our shuffling hands and feet – the bills, the bills I tell you – make it seem impossible.

The majority of us fall into this category. Every day at work seems like a sentence doled out by a spiteful judge. We have to psyche ourselves up each day before we begin, just to be able to endure what is to come. 

We look upon the masses of people who have an office job and it is envy we feel. 

You see, office purgatory may seem like the very fresh hell in which I’m describing to those who are living it, but this choice of vocation allows one crucial factor that we need in order to flourish.

I write a blog that few read as a purge. This catharsis allows me that one fundamental facet of life that all humans require, and that is hope. The silver lining of the tedious job is that you can mentally work on your blog.

I hope my words are read by someone. 

It may be longer odds than finding Elvis discussing the events of the day atop Loch Ness, but it is that little dot of light that makes the long dark tunnel a pathway rather than a sheer abyss. 

The ambition which burns bright is dampened day by day as the stifling lack of oxygen hampers the flame. 

We have no objection to graft, far from it. We just want our work to mean something, and for all the years we spend there to allow a small opportunity for progression and a slice of happiness.

The job will never ensure we’re satisfied. It is up to us to add the value that makes these our best years.

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