This article is part one of a seven part series on unplugging from the cubicle. Read the full introduction here.
You Must, It’s for the Greater Good
“Great Ms. Mark, so glad you could make it to the interview. Okay, some of the requirements are reception coverage, archiving management, estimates… ”
“Reception coverage?”
“Why yes, it’s part of your duties. A must for the job.”
“Ohh.. great.”
Grudgingly, I accepted the position. As a single gal without a safety net, I’ve got bills to pay. An important lifestyle to maintain. Six years later I remain employed, bound by the confines of my job description and a cube. I populate Excel spreadsheets and archive files from 2003 with a grateful smile on my face. What I didn’t anticipate was a little piece of myself chipping away each day. But.. but.. it had to be done.
Absolutes. Responsibilities. Musts. The cornerstones of adulthood, correct?
Hello Cubicle
How it All Begins
From birth, cultural norms are thrust at us, until eventually they become second nature. This transition is seamless, nary a hair or whisper clues us in. Then you hit eighteen. Your dad paces among piles of crumpled clothes, barking at you to turn down the music. He sneers at the band posters on your wall, wondering what the hell you do in here all weekend. Jacking up your tunes and writing goth poetry, probably. That’s when your abode is penetrated by a death rattle.
“I don’t give a crap what you want to do.. music, art.. whatever it is you wanna do this summer. Next September, you better be enrolled in university. Don’t you wanna a good job?”
You scream inside your head - do I??!!
“Uh.. I dunno. Me and the guys were gonna check out the scene in… ”
“If you expect me to sit around while you check out a ‘scene’, you’re kidding me! Your mother and I didn’t work hard for you to mess around. We only want the best for you. You better think about this long and hard.”
He tosses some papers on your bed, turning heel to leave. The door slams with a finality that you feel in the gut. It’s dead and hard, a chunk of coal not worth lighting. You know he’s right. It’s what they expect and wish.
Even your fingers fall prey to defeat as they clumsily grab the wad of papers. Your eyes focus on the Arial font springing from the first page, “We are pleased to accept your application to the University of…”
The coffin lid hammers down in a hair raising groan. You accept for now, shutting down any inklings of self-expression. Besides, you can always flex those muscles in school.
The only measure to defy expectations and your parents was enjoying every second of that liberal arts degree, but it’s finished now. What’s facing you at the moment is loan debt coupled with a craving for independence.
Your parents passed on the tools to wield the gauntlet of responsibility, you go forth and accept the first job to meet you at the front door, grateful to have a steady pay-cheque, practically ecstatic that a template for life is easy to slip into. Far more than you grasped.
Reception Coverage, Anyone?
Whoah, What’s Happening to Me?
I was drowning, positive of it. I tasted salt, while my tongue moved sluggishly inside my mouth. Wetness engulfed me, so I gasped – punching through – my hands gnarled into tense fists. Bam! My eyes flew open. I rolled to my side, the hieroglyphs of my digital clock read 3:00 a.m. Five more hours until work. My hair was tacky, sticking to the side of my face. That’s when I realized there was a sheet of dampness beneath me, yet it didn’t stem from adult wetting, but sweat wrenched from my body. Bad dreams. Or is it bad reality invading again? My mind crowded with fresh thoughts. That’s when a list chimed in.
Write everyday.
I can’t, have to exercise after work, cook dinner, feed the cat, run errands. By the time that’s done, I’m exhausted and have to rest up for the next day.
Sign up for a writing workshop.
Overtime again. This project has to meet the deadline.
Draft a piece during lunch.
Lunch meetings, or again – work through lunch to get on top of things.
An invading worm of discomfort sat in my belly. What is this? ! Of course! Cognitive dissonance just thumped me.
Duty
Duty can be called “doing the right thing”or “to do one’s duty”. Kantian Ethics classifies this as “Good Will”. What does Good Will mean?
Duty is what makes you good; it’s not what makes you (or anyone else) happy. It’s not what satisfies natural inclinations to attain pleasure or happiness. So part of having a Good Will is making your moral decisions without considering whether they would create happiness or pleasure, or avoid pain.
Unspoken consequences and duty connect. If you selfishly park your car in the middle of a street, another car might hit it, and people could get injured. Thus, follow the municipal guidelines on parking – by the curb. If you were constantly late to work, knowing you have to attend by a certain time, this could affect your performance review, bonus share, or even get you fired. If that happened, how could you financially support your family? It’s logic, don’t be late.
There are actions that we must complete for survival. Having a job that earns a particular amount of money to maintain our needs is one of them.
What happens when duty and happiness begin barking at each other? When in fact, a negative light is cast upon blindly following duty? In trying to avoid pain by abiding, it actually comes at you in droves.
Desire
Hedonists relate actions with pleasure, a known tidbit in ethics. To narrow this down further, ethical hedonism cites that whether or not one pursues pleasure, one ought to do so. Essentially, a right action produces pleasure. Let’s be clear, ethical hedonism isn’t about promoting orgies and gorging on handfuls of cake. Over indulgence that may lead to pain is not the aim here. The core of ethical hedonism is not only maximizing pleasure, but minimizing suffering. A fine balance of pleasurable endeavors.
But, what distinguishes pleasure? Honestly, it’s truly an individual quest. Composing a poem might ignite someone’s fire, while another person takes pride in absorbing the technical aspects of photography. The sources of pleasure matter little, it’s the result – a warm, soft feeling entering our bodies that counts.
I’ll get to the bare bones. Desire is those activities that fuel our happiness, satisfaction, or enjoyment. Opponents of pleasure tend to characterize pleasure-seekers as frivolous, damn impractical, and vastly self-serving.
Here’s my wrench tossed at those opponents, why is it so wrong to pursue things that ultimately make us happy?
Joy of Painting
How Does This Relate to the Cubicle?
When contemplating change the psyche clashes between the two.
We all have a responsibility to refrain from hurting others, an unspoken duty to be a decent citizen.
What about our duty to be a thriving, fruitful member of society? Or not taxing the medical system because of weight gain, smoking or alcohol abuse? Clear triggers of depression and stress.
A life of senseless duty without personal desires is an oppressive desert, where the only visitors received are prickly tumbleweeds and gaunt scavengers.
Duty itself is not inherently bad. Quite often, we require some structure to tackle our desires.
How do we force the two to cooperate? Sometimes we don’t, continuing on that path of duty. Oh, but a small percentage of us refuse to.
When navigating this first stage, be clear on what are unbendable duties.
- Food.
- Shelter.
- Parenting and child care.
- Acting justly and fairly towards others.
Alternatively, set out your desires:
- Self-expression.
- Making art.
- Building community and social networks.
- Self-care.
Review both sides carefully. If you fall heavily on the duty side, and ignore all the things that give you satisfaction, something is in need of repair. The antiquated model of production to uphold food or shelter, but burying inner joy just doesn’t cut it any longer.
And that’s why you’re reading this article. Because you know new definitions of living exist – it’s possible for duty and desire to coexist together. Meanwhile, observe these petulant children pull each other’s hair or resort to name calling, for the next stage is around the corner. A surprising one, but you’re ready for the battle.
Sources: Kant Ethics and Happy Mind.
Photos: jdevincente and Urbanartcore under Creative Commons.
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{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
@Alison – Sickness is an important signal to end a cubicle/counter rollercoaster. Fate stepped in to afford you the opportunity, it sounds. Indeed, look at who you’ve evolved into today. :) I contend, you were always that person, and now she lives day-to-day in her passions!
Oh wow, I feel like I just read my life story. For me though, it wasn’t a cubicle but standing behind a counter managing a store. I struggled to start a business as a photographer ‘after hours’ but those hours never seemed to end. When they did I was dead tired. It wasn’t until my husband was relocated to Belgium and I legally couldn’t work outside the house that things changed and I could focus on what I really wanted to do. The funny thing was, I didn’t have to work as a store manager, but I felt if I couldn’t contribute financially to my family I was worthless. So I stayed for years in a job that I hated so much it made me sick.
@Ayngelina – Oh, I couldn’t agree more on the gap year. We should introduce it into the constitution. :)
@TLWH – Dominate is a sound word to describe the myriad of crap one goes through. Somehow, it tends to feel wrong or an act of blasphemy to even broach it!
@TravelingSavage – Nicely said. I could insist it’s more like an addict and his/her drug of choice. Coming off the junk we’ve been fed for most of our lives is a major process.
@Jacki – Why, thank you! Really enjoy your tweets, and so happy you are getting something from this series so far.
Wonderful post, and something I think everyone should read.
The cubicle umbilical cord. When you cut it, life begins.
Breaking free of the cubicle as you so rightfully point out is more than just a physical thing. The mental task of building up to that resignation letter can dominate you mind for months.
Sometimes Canada follows UK trends and sometimes it follows the US. As a commonwealth country I wish we embraced the GAP year. Instead we’re in a race with the US to get ahead and make money.