Thoughts on Careers

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Arbitrary

When I finished sixth grade (May 2007), I deliberately considered which careers I would and would not do when I grew up. It makes me laugh now. And as you can see, I didn’t make much progress with the OK’d list.

I will NOT do anything that has to do with…

  • Trying to figure out what happened and what humans, animals, or plants were alive centuries ago, because we should concentrate on the future, not the past (examples: cryptologist, paleontologist, archeologist)
  • Killing or harming animals (example: butcher, game warden)
  • Wasting natural resources or affiliating with companies who do (examples: ore miner, gas station filler, oil rig operator)
  • Forensics, police work, or detective work
  • Working as a judge or jury member, or anything having to do with court and law
  • Sin (examples: casino worker, beer/alcohol store owner… assassin)
  • Fast food, because it just makes people fat

But I will…

  • Be beneficial to the world (examples: technology developer, architect, engineer)
  • Enjoy the job I have
  • Glorify God

Inconclusive

Halfway through my first year of high school (January 2009), I again pondered the career question:

What is a career?

A way to make money, to survive in this world? A way to leave your name in history books or on everyone’s lips? A way to “find happiness”? A way to spend the days of your life? A way to daily impact the people around you in profound ways? A way to simply help the world, either ecologically or personably [pretty sure I made up that word]? A way to showcase the achievements (or failures) of humankind?

A career consumes the lifetime you’ve been given.

Gladwell’s

And yesterday, as I near the conclusion of high school, I came across this account of Malcolm Gladwell’s experience with careers:

“Writing was the thing I ended up doing by default, for the simple reason that it took forever to realize that writing could be a job. Jobs were things that were serious and daunting. Writing was fun.”

(from What the Dog Saw, a collection of essays from The New Yorker)

The Story

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This is inspired by a text message sent to me by a friend and continually re-sent to me in times of need by my glitch-y cellphone.

“The Story”

In the beginning, nothing:
Nothing can stand between your goals and you.
Like: Like a climber dreaming of the summit,
A: A brilliant career is no more than your due.

Distinct: distinct is the sound of a pounding heart
—But! Lack: lack of life-changing letters in your mailbox—
Of: of the fullness of promised happiness
Success: success is anticlimactic; It is
To: to be haunted by scales and clocks.
Remind: “Remind me why I’m here?” You’ve lost the way.
You: you search and stumble through a stale fog of doubt.
There’s: there’s the sun, a faint glow, but that’s cliché
More: more of your heart claimed by weeds you’ve let sprout.

Then: “Nothing like a distinct lack of success to remind you there’s more…“

To: to love and to be loved erases your sins
The story: the story ends where it begins.