I had lunch with an old friend the other day. As we sat down to our table, I could sense something was wrong. He’s usually the one cracking jokes and giving me a hard time about one of my favorite sports teams doing something embarrassing like losing in spectacular fashion. But this time there just wasn’t that same spark. After ordering our drinks, I looked him in the eye and said, “Okay, spill it. What’s going on with you?” It didn’t take much cojoling to learn that he was doing hand-to-hand combat with the gremlin known as Professional Existential Crisis. This particular gremlin likes to ask, in a persistent, nagging way, if what you’re currently working on matters in the grand scheme of things.
The truth is that we’re not always going to be creating pyramids that will stand for millennia. Sometimes our work will result in sand castles that will be erased by the next tide. But what happens when we feel like all we’re accomplishing is ephemeral, without any lasting value to the world?
With this in mind, I appreciate what Umair Haque wrote about this in his post, Create a Meaningful Life through Meaningful Work. He asks three questions that get to the heart of whether our work is granting lasting value:
- Does it stand the test of time?
- Does it stand the test of excellence?
- Does it stand the test of you?
Further in the post, Haque writes:
I’d like to challenge you to consider the questions of mattering in a slightly more sophisticated, humane, considered way. It’s one thing to work on stuff that seems sexy because it’s socially cool and financially rewarding. But fulfillment doesn’t come much from money or cool-power — all the money in the world can’t buy you a searing sense of accomplishment.
So what about you? Is your work contributing to a “searing sense of accomplishment?” If not, what’s one step you can take today to move in that direction.
Photo credit: Darren Krape via Flickr
I’m fascinated by risk. I’ve taken my fair share of big-time risks in my life: started two business ventures, moved from Washington DC to Austin TX without a job, got married when I was only 21 (to a wonderful, beautiful woman who I know I’ll spend the rest of my days with). And I take countless smaller risks every day (driving on Texas roads isn’t exactly an act for the faint of heart). Yet, I still find myself not tackling some tasks I know will move me further toward my professional goals…because there are risks involved.






