If you’re not in business for yourself, that is, if you work for a company of any size, you often hear of “passion” as somewhat of a requirement for your job. You must have a passion for your profession, and you must be passionate about the company you work for. Otherwise, the implication goes, why are you there, and why do you do what you do? Many companies, including my employer, lists passion as one of their brand values. Passion is often touted as an integral ingredient to a success at any level. How did that guy build such a great application all by himself? He must be super passionate about it.
It’s not that I don’t believe in passion. I do believe in most of what I just said, 90% of the time. But even when I believe in it, part of me always remembers that it’s just work, I wouldn’t be doing it if I wasn’t getting paid, and at the end of the day IT’S JUST A WEBSITE. I’ve always thought of it as a healthy way to keep myself in check with reality. My theory is that if you’re too passionate about your job, you may lose sight of more important things, like spending time with your family or telling someone you love how you feel. Or you may put too much importance in what you do that you can’t have empathy for others who don’t work in your field. Ever since I started working, I’ve gotten used to carefully maintaining the balance of passion for my profession and for everything else around me.
Possibly as a result of that — I’ve recently realized that I rarely feel like I’m putting in 100% into doing anything. That’s not really a great feeling, because when you’re putting in 100+%, you’re pushing yourself, and that’s when you learn something. That’s when you discover something new about yourself, whatever you’re doing, and others around you. If you’re not putting in 100% you’re coasting, and while nobody can go “pedal to the metal” all the time, it’s probably a good thing to at least try once in a while. To feel alive, to keep the engine going, whatever.
I recently began subscribing to the Studio 360 podcasts, and a recent show was about how five years after 9/11, there is a range of creative responses to the tragedy. Here’s a quote from Jonathan Safran Foer that made me think about the topic of this post. He was responding to a question about using 9/11 as a backdrop for his recent novel, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close:
I can’t imagine any way to be more reverential of something than to use it as a material for fiction. That is how I am most serious about something. There’s nothing I spend more time on than my writing. There’s nothing I think about more or care about more, outside of my family.
Here’s the link to the podcast.
Of course he added “outside of my family” so he doesn’t come off as a crazy out-of-balance writer who only cares about his craft. But there was something in his voice, a pride, or a conviction of some sort — that said he can’t help but do what he does, because that’s the best way he knows how to express what is inside. This guy is passionate about his craft, and he’s sure of it. I felt a twinge of jealousy for his conviction.
I don’t have that. I don’t even know if I want that level of conviction about what I do — information architecture. But I’m starting to think that as long as I’m spending most of my time during the week on it, I might as well put in 100%, and try to challenge myself, learn something new, and maybe even inspire others while at it. OK, maybe three out of five days.
So — just to confuse myself, I’m thinking it’s time to mix it all up again. Too much passion is bad. But too much balance, if there can be such a thing, is also bad. When you’re passionate, you challenge yourself. When you challenge yourself, something changes — either you change, or others around you change. In general, changes are good, and the size of the change has to vary from time to time, too. Phew — is that confusing enough?