As humans, we’ve reached a point in time where comfort is easily found. Our smartphones provide us with food (postmates), sex (tinder), dopamine (instagram), and endless distraction from the dullness of existence. As a species, our comfort level is at an all-time high, and we value it accordingly. (Millennials place comfort and relaxation both as top-10 values in Gartner’s 2019 Consumer Value and Lifestyle Survey)

But we know from research and experience, that comfort does not bring happiness. Emily Esfahani Smith says “happiness can’t be pursued, it must ensue, it’s the byproduct of leading a meaningful life. There is research that shows that when we chase happiness and value it in this obsessive way as our culture encourages us to do, that we actually end up feeling unhappier, it makes us feel lonelier. Whereas if we do things that we think are meaningful, we’re left with this deeper sense of well being and contentment.”

Unfortunately, we’re not valuing or pursuing meaning as we should.

According to Gartner’s survey, millennials place purpose/meaning as their 30th value.

And that makes sense. Comfort is easily understood and easily attained. Meaning sounds hard. Responsibility, purpose? We have to leave our apartment for that. We have to get off our phones for that.

The smartphone is our digital security blanket, providing emotional comfort and security in a way that has never been so accessible before.
It provides a distraction from the pain and dullness of modern life. It’s an excuse to avoid awkward in-person social interactions. It’s a reliable source of dopamine hits. The warm glow of the screen mimics the campfire our ancestors might have gathered around.

But how do we pursuit meaning over comfort? In a world of hyperbolic, vague content labels as “advice,” I’ll give you a concrete answer. Get a dog.

Dogs are the ultimate meaning-maker.

Researches have found that meaning requires significance, purpose, and coherence. Three things dogs provide in spades.

“Significance is about a sense of life’s inherent value and having a life worth living.” — That’s not much more worthwhile than caring entirely for another living being.

“Purpose means a sense of core goals, aims, and direction in life.” — The task of training a dog gives you a clear cut, rewarding objective.

“Coherence means a sense of comprehensibility and one’s life making sense.” — Humans have bred and kept dogs as companions for thousands of years, it’s their entire purpose on the planet. Makes a lot of sense.

Make no mistake, there’s nothing “easy” about dogs. But that’s the essence of their magic.

Dog’s require patience, responsibility, and dedication. They depend on you for everything. They force us into awkward social interactions with our neighbors, they make us consider a perspective other than our own, they give us an unquestionably important, yet manageable purpose.

And that purpose brings longer-lasting and more significant happiness than comfort ever could.

So put down your phone, and pick up a dog.

Meaning in a World of Comfort or The Difficulty of Dogs was originally published in Outchea on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I stole the title of this blog post from a 1999 album by the post-hardcore band Underoath. Anyway.

Humans are wired to seek safety. It’s the bottom rung on Maslow’s ladder, it’s the key ingredient in successful relationships, it’s a selling point for political leaders, it’s what we crave first and foremost.

In times like these-times of mistrust, unrest, chaos, and sickness, we’re moved to chase safety even more. It’s why Gartner has identified the trend of “Spiritual Cocooning” as the result of shifting values moving towards comfort, safety, and serenity. More of us are spending more time at home, shrinking our social bubbles, and placing our trust even more selectively.

But in reality, safety is an illusion. Helen Keller said “Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it.”

This is the nature of reality and humanity. We’re never actually in a place of “safety.” The things we depend on to keep us safe are mostly illusions. Marriage, homes, salaried jobs, police, none of them are as dependable as we think they are.

Marriage — 50% of them fail.
Homes — Remember 2008?
Jobs — It’s called “At-Will” employment.
Police — Yeah.

So I submit that our best course of action is to embrace the chaos. Get comfortable with being uncomfortable. This is why quotes like “life begins at the end of your comfort zone” exist. They’re cheesy but they’re true.

Because clinging to safety keeps life boring, and usually gets us the opposite result.

Cling too much to a marriage and you’ll strip it of the joy and the mystery essential for passion.
Seth Godin asserts that “playing it safe” at work is the riskiest thing you can do.
If you invest your 401k too conservatively you’ll never end up with enough to retire on.

The bottom line is this. We’ll never be as safe or as comfortable as we want to be.

Let’s embrace that, and keep going.

#outchea

We’re Only “Chasing” Safety was originally published in Outchea on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I can remember being a Junior in college, 20 years old, sitting in my apartment near the campus of The University of Kansas, pondering my future career options.

I knew what I didn’t want to do. I didn’t want to sell insurance.

At the time “selling insurance” was to me the prototypical “job.” No offense to insurance salesmen. I’m sure there are plenty of them who love what they do, but to me, it was the epitome of what I didn’t want in life. Even at that young age, I knew myself fairly well. I knew that if I wasn’t internally motivated, there was no amount of external motivation that could make me move. Nothing could make me sell insurance. I didn’t care about it.

I knew what I did care about, though. Music. There was nothing that I loved more. There was nothing else that I could work at so effortlessly. At the time I played in a rock band with my friends. We were nothing to write home about, but I tell you what, there’s never been a mediocre college rock band who was promoted more. My drive to hang flyers, hand out CD samplers, and call radio stations was tireless. (Before social media you actually had to leave your house to be a promoter.) So my career choice was easy. Marketing music was like second nature. I didn’t think it could feel like work.

But eventually, it did.

It took almost 10 years, but by 2012 I was done. No longer was I impressing myself by setting up digital campaigns for the biggest artist in hip-hop. Talking to managers and agents in LA had once felt glamorous and terribly important, but after almost a decade it had become meaningless.

So it was time for a change.

It was time for me to remember what else I was passionate about. Sports. Before I became music obsessed I was a sports nerd, and I was still a big fan. In an incredible stroke of luck, my favorite team on the planet just so happened to be hiring for a job I was confident I could do. Rock Chalk. I got the opportunity to sit courtside for three seasons watching my favorite team play night in and night out. It was an incredible honor and thrill, and I’ll never forget it.

I can remember in my second game I was sitting next to a co-worker who had spent nearly 10 years in the athletic department. A brief comment she made stuck with me. “I’d rather be anywhere else than here.” I was stunned. You don’t want to be in Allen Fieldhouse right now? The cathedral of college basketball? The best place to watch hoops in the entire nation, courtside, and you’d rather be anywhere else? I couldn’t believe it.

I never got to the point where I didn’t want to be there, but three years later, I could understand the sentiment. No longer did “The Phog” produce the chills it once had. It seemed to me that the loss of passion was accelerating.

The music industry lost its special place in my heart in ten years. Sports had only taken three.

So I moved on. To a position and hopefully the beginning of a new stage in my career that’s driven by mastery more than passion.

Here’s my hypothesis. Passion can take you a long way in your career. It can kick start things when you’re young and provide the fuel you need to develop your craft. But passion can be fleeting, and unpredictable. I suspect it’s difficult to sustain a career on a foundation of passion.

I can’t say that I began my career passionate about marketing, or about social media. I CAN say that 10+ years of work in the field, driven by passion, has gotten me to a point where I’m not so bad at it. Instead of passion for the topic/subject I’m promoting, I’m now driven by the mastery of the craft.

The commonality across my entire career has been a desire to connect amazing brands with the fanatics who can’t get enough of them. That’s something I’ve never grown tired of. The specifics might change, but the craft doesn’t.

In the words of Simon Sinek, this is my WHY. I come to work every day to try to build and further an emotional connection with a brand. Promoting punk-pop tours, creating basketball photos, promoting golf equipment, those are WHATs. Meaningful for sure, but they’re nothing without the WHY.

Learning and developing that purpose within yourself is what turns passion into mastery.

Here’s the obvious part. I’m enjoying my work now as much as ever.

The Journey From Passion to Mastery. was originally published in Outchea on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Allow me to provide an analogy.

I suspect there are two kinds of doctors. And the difference comes down to motivation.

The first type is a popular people pleaser. This doctor probably has extremely high reviews, and may even come recommended by your friends. By all accounts, he seems great, and most likely, you’ll never know if he’s not. But you might be wasting your time and money on this service provider. This is the kind of doctor who will prescribe antibiotics against his better judgment because you demand them. He’ll let you get away with a gastric bypass even though he knows a healthy diet and exercise would be better in the long run. If you’re happy, he’s done his job.

A truly valuable M.D., worth the cost of even the highest copay, will tell you what needs to happen. In spite of what you want to hear. The steps you need to take to get or stay well. He’ll stand by his recommendations whether you like them or not. He’s not there to make you happy, he’s there to make you healthy.

But this isn’t really about doctors.

There are actually two kinds of workers. Two kinds of PEOPLE even.

- There are those whose motivation is external. This group works primarily for praise and high-regard. They place great value in achieving recognition and status within an organization.

- And there are those whose drive comes from inside. They have an internal bar for the quality of their work. Before anything else, they have to get over that bar, and the bar is eternally raised.

I believe that an ever-rising bar is the most important asset you possess as an employee and a crucial element to the success of a business.

We know now that external motivation is fickle. It can be unpredictable at best, and it doesn’t always correlate with actual job performance. Most of all, it’s just not that motivating anyway.

“Intrinsic motivation is also a stronger predictor of job performance than extrinsic motivation — so it is feasible to expect higher financial rewards to inhibit not only intrinsic motivation, but also job performance. The more people focus on their salaries, the less they will focus on satisfying their intellectual curiosity, learning new skills, or having fun, and those are the very things that make people perform best.” — Harvard Business Review

There are some organizations that get this. These businesses purposefully seek out individuals with the internal bar, and intentionally provide opportunities to top it.

There are some organizations that don’t get it. More likely, they do get the concept, but they’re afraid of the consequences.

More important in my mind is knowing which category you fit into as an employee, and understanding which kind you’re looking for as an employer. A mismatch in expectations in this area can be catastrophic for an organization.

If you’re a leader of a company or a department it’s crucial that you be honest with yourself in this assessment, and know how to tell the difference. If you’re looking for a yes-man, don’t hire somebody who will constantly challenge you.

If you have that bar we discussed earlier, it can be incredibly frustrating in a position where it’s not valued.

Here’s the tough part. Nobody says or admits they want a yes-man.

Motivation was originally published in Outchea on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.