Not directly applicable, but perhaps relevant: I was told this advice and found it useful (in that I used it to make important life decisions). “Don’t do your passion for a job,” she said. “Everyone wakes up one day and hates their job. Don’t wake up one day and hate what you love. Do something you like that you’re at.”
Also, I don’t remember who told me this or if I made it up, but I’ve relayed it to people: Don’t look for fulfillment from your job. Don’t go for the highest peaks; just try to avoid the lowest valleys.
That’s a rather interesting idea, and I wonder if there’s any way to test it. It certainly accords with my experience— I’m pretty happy as a mathematician whose passion is more about arguing than about math. (I’ve started an occasional argument society, which is generally the highlight of my month.)
The reason this works (to whatever extent it works) probably boils down to status, and the fact that in a big world, everyone rises until they get introduced to the level above theirs. If math were my passion, I’d constantly be comparing myself to people better at it than I am, and I’d probably be miserable about it. (Even as it is, this part stings subconsciously.) But instead, I have a good niche in multiple social worlds: my colleagues think it’s neat that I have these well-argued contrarian ideas about all kinds of topics, while my other friends are impressed by the fact I’m getting a PhD in math.
Of course, the same factor works with my other hobby (dancing), despite that being neither my vocation nor my passion. I think the takeaway lesson here is that we’re not really happy unless we’re at the top in our social niche, and that the best way to achieve this in a big modern world is to have multiple independent specialties...
Not directly applicable, but perhaps relevant: I was told this advice and found it useful (in that I used it to make important life decisions). “Don’t do your passion for a job,” she said. “Everyone wakes up one day and hates their job. Don’t wake up one day and hate what you love. Do something you like that you’re at.”
Also, I don’t remember who told me this or if I made it up, but I’ve relayed it to people: Don’t look for fulfillment from your job. Don’t go for the highest peaks; just try to avoid the lowest valleys.
That’s a rather interesting idea, and I wonder if there’s any way to test it. It certainly accords with my experience— I’m pretty happy as a mathematician whose passion is more about arguing than about math. (I’ve started an occasional argument society, which is generally the highlight of my month.)
The reason this works (to whatever extent it works) probably boils down to status, and the fact that in a big world, everyone rises until they get introduced to the level above theirs. If math were my passion, I’d constantly be comparing myself to people better at it than I am, and I’d probably be miserable about it. (Even as it is, this part stings subconsciously.) But instead, I have a good niche in multiple social worlds: my colleagues think it’s neat that I have these well-argued contrarian ideas about all kinds of topics, while my other friends are impressed by the fact I’m getting a PhD in math.
Of course, the same factor works with my other hobby (dancing), despite that being neither my vocation nor my passion. I think the takeaway lesson here is that we’re not really happy unless we’re at the top in our social niche, and that the best way to achieve this in a big modern world is to have multiple independent specialties...