Google “how to be determined” or “how to stay motivated” or “achieve your dreams” and you’ll find millions of self-help pages dedicated to teaching you ways to do it all. Ways to be happy, ways to not stress, ways to finally achieve that goal that’s always been so elusive. And the advice can be helpful—even when you’ve heard the same thing a million different ways—sometimes it just takes one more variation on a theme for a concept to really click.
I’m determined. Determined to find what it is that I want to do with my life. Definitely a first-world problem, one I’m grateful to have. Guess how long this search has been ongoing? Over a decade. Any closer to figuring it out? MMMMMMM, a little. And boy does that rankle. Like the majority of the American population, I’ve spent years searching for my own personal contentment formula, a magic concoction of mind-set and confidence, designed to parse what it is exactly that I’m here for. The process is exhilarating and more often extremely frustrating. But maybe taking a break from the pursuit of happiness is a healthier choice. How so?
Mike Rowe, Dirty Jobs host, recently advised his fans NOT to follow their passion. It seems like such a scrooge-like attitude to hold, especially for a person who has found success doing something he enjoys. Additionally, where might the world be without those daring enough to surge past the limits set before them? People such as Steve Jobs, Malala Yousafzai, Elon Musk, Aayan Hirsi Ali, Edward Snowden, and many others? Well, Mike elaborated in a way more sincere and honest than many tired motivational tropes that surf the societal trends. His entire rejoinder is well worth the read (it’s in the photo description), but I’ll endeavor to summarize here: Yes, be passionate—yes, work hard—but be honest with yourself and your loved ones.
To give a whimsical example, say you practice the art of uvular trills for an hour each day over the course of seven years, in addition to taking weekly classes with master teachers in the field, all with the dream of professionally singing a duet with Elton John at Madison Square Garden using this vocal method. However, as always, each time you trill for more than a few moments, you break into a phlegm-filled cough capable of demolishing the eardrums of even the most resilient squeeing Bieber tween. What then? Endure or face the reality that as much as you love uvular trills, your perpetually stagnant abilities will not produce the outcome you so desire? Perhaps it’s time to move on to something that offers achievable satisfaction.
And the world is full of people that have moved on from one thing to another. Just take a peek at Kickstarter’s summary of 2014. Maybe our uvular triller let go of dreams of Elton John and Madison Square Garden to develop anti-phlegm lozenges, or a cool costume, or hover board, or uvular massage unit. Perhaps sometimes it’s not your passion that drives your greatest potential, but your receptivity to what ELSE you can do. Fill a need, address a problem, find your niche.
When it comes to earning a living and being a productive member of society – I don’t think people should limit their options to those vocations they feel passionate towards. I met a lot of people on Dirty Jobs who really loved their work. But very few of them dreamed of having the career they ultimately chose. I remember a very successful septic tank cleaner who told me his secret of success. “I looked around to see where everyone else was headed, and then I went the opposite way,” he said. “Then I got good at my work. Then I found a way to love it. Then I got rich.” ~ Mike Rowe
But stopping looking for what I’m passionate about feels an awful lot like quitting. It’s leaving something unfinished when I might, just might, achieve something through persisting for just a little bit longer. Well, the final quote to leave you with is once again from Mike Rowe’s essay:
When I was 16, I wanted to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps. I wanted to be a tradesman. I wanted to build things, and fix things, and make things with my own two hands. This was my passion, and I followed it for years. I took all the shop classes at school, and did all I could to absorb the knowledge and skill that came so easily to my granddad. Unfortunately, the handy gene skipped over me, and I became frustrated. But I remained determined to do whatever it took to become a tradesman.
One day, I brought home a sconce from woodshop that looked like a paramecium, and after a heavy sigh, my grandfather told me the truth. He explained that my life would be a lot more satisfying and productive if I got myself a different kind of toolbox. This was almost certainly the best advice I’ve ever received, but at the time, it was crushing. It felt contradictory to everything I knew about persistence, and the importance of “staying the course.” It felt like quitting. But here’s the “dirty truth,” Stephen. “Staying the course” only makes sense if you’re headed in a sensible direction. Because passion and persistence – while most often associated with success – are also essential ingredients of futility.
That’s why I would never advise anyone to “follow their passion” until I understand who they are, what they want, and why they want it. Even then, I’d be cautious. Passion is too important to be without, but too fickle to be guided by. Which is why I’m more inclined to say, “Don’t Follow Your Passion, But Always Bring it With You.”
So. Maybe I don’t need to find what it is I want to do with my life. Perhaps the reason I don’t have definable purpose is because I don’t need to. My intrinsic interests are available as training wheels to guide me to fill a need, address a problem, find my niche. Passion will come later.
