The Traditional Song and Dance
“HOW IS THE REAL WORLD?” I am frequently asked this now, being out of school and seemingly off to the race toward retirement.
And my response used to typically be, “Well, I’m far from the playground I used to play on. I’m far from the mountains I used to ski, hike, and climb. I’m far from being able to do the things I loved to do so freely.”
Because the only thing that seemed real was my résumé in my hand and my quest to find a vacant cell called an office and the safety and security of a job. I had to keep my head low and obey the rules during my forty-year sentence before I would be “released” and free again. If I was lucky enough to be admitted to this sought-after cell, I would be assigned an employee number to identify me, as I could possibly drown from the stack of papers overflowing on my desk from each day’s production.
All of this was supposedly real. No more playtime. No more play- ground fun again. I had to do real work now, put in the hours to earn my paycheck, and make a living.
The traditional song and dance—play it safe, find a secure job, and retire in forty years—reminded me of Steve Martin in The Jerk, trying to snap his fingers in time to the tune. But he was completely off. I was making myself look more like a fool by trying to play along with this traditional song, rather than just trying to play my own.
Philosophical Engineering Design Point
And even though these elements of getting a degree, job, and married to retire are not necessarily bad things to get in life, I just didn't get how they actually fit into my life. After dropping out of grad school, getting fired, and failing to get married after college, I was told to my face one day in a job interview, that I was a failure.
However, where I had really fallen off track and hit rock bottom, was not knowing what I was really working towards. I had no direction to really guide me as to what I should be working on, because the idea of my peak potential being forty years down the road seemed ridiculous to me. Instead, I began to turn inward and focused on my song and dance of what I actually needed and valued in life.