Tomorrow is Monday, and like many employed adults working a standard nine-to-five job, five days a week, fifty weeks a year, Monday is rarely a favorite. Not that it’s a particularly bad day, but the overall feeling of Monday is that the workweek has begun, everything that remains from last week must be completed with the utmost urgency because it is now overdue, and who knows what else has popped up over the weekend that will need seemingly immediate attention as soon as you open your inbox. That is, if your phone, computer, tablet, or watch didn’t already notify you of its urgency.
Monday did not always have this effect on me, just as I’m sure not every person was born with an innate dread of Mondays, but
As I struggled with the concept that my day-to-day was no longer as new and inspiring as it once was when I first started exploring the working world, I tried to search within myself to see if it was simply something to do with my perspective.
In the back of my mind, a simple story whispered to me. It was from a well-read devotional that sits on my bookshelf, Breakfast with God. In this story, a man is checking on a construction project in France in the Middle Ages.
When he approaches a worker and asks him what he’s doing, he’s met with a very abrasive response and a primitive perspective: The worker is toiling away and cutting boulders to put them
When he approaches a second worker and asks the same question, this worker’s response is slightly more positive: The worker is helping to support his family, but only by laboring for someone else’s design.
With the last worker, however, the same question is met with a different sort of response—he’s building a cathedral!
Only this last worker could see his place in the grand plan and that his contributions in labor were creating something that would benefit more than just his nuclear (immediate) world. He understood that he was part of a master plan and that the work he was doing held a greater purpose.
So how did I view my own work? Let’s just say I wasn’t on the same level as the man who was building a cathedral. I couldn’t see my purpose in work, let alone, in life. And I’m not alone.
Work, in spite of our expectations, doesn’t fulfill us. We become so focused on our position, title, and performance that we easily become drained in our attempts to either get to the next level or to stay on top.
But what if I told you we don’t work the way we were intended to?
In one of my first interviews, my employer-to-be asked me a stupefying question: “What drives you?” What indeed…
Simon Sinek is famous for
As I went on this road of self-discovery, I came to the conclusion that
meaning that a life centered around work is missing its purpose and potential.
Instead of work being the focus of your life, let it be a product of your life.
If you find the real reason of why you get out of bed each day, then work becomes a product of that “why” — you live for something greater than what you alone can produce, and……Mondays may not be so hard anymore.