I know. Its been quiet over here. The season of crazy at work has ended, and magically everything got done. And by magic, I mean lots and lots of hours at my desk. For the first time ever, I was named Art Director of the magazine that I put together. It is pretty sweet to see your name with that title in print. For ALL TIME. This March will mark 10 years since I graduated college and I am pretty proud of my career so far. I constantly find myself wanting to put the pedal to the metal and continue moving onward and upward. I am ambitious by nature and it is hard not to constantly crave more. More money. More prestige. More responsibility.
I follow the trends in the job market, so I’m always looking at job boards to see what is out there. I see jobs open up and there is always an internal battle in my head as I talk myself out of applying for it. I need to close my eyes. Take a deep breath. Enjoy where I’m at. I WILL BE CONTENT IF IT KILLS ME DAMMIT! I love my job. I really do. I love what I do, I love the people, the products, even in the midst of the crazy, I know that it will be SO rewarding once the final product lands on my desk. It reminds me of cooking. The rewards for your efforts are reaped immediately. I thrive in this environment.
It is like everything else in life, right? I shouldn’t be in such a hurry to climb the ladder. I don’t want to hit my career peak at 30. You have to leave room for cream! I know I could move to a big city and make big impressions in really big companies. But in my heart, I know that there are more important things in life than how you earn your paycheck. I want to work to live, not live to work. My job is one of the most important things to me right now, but I also know that the rewards I gain from it will pale in comparison to the rewards that are in store for me.
It is hard to live in Scottsdale and see the rat race taking place all around you. This morning some of my co-workers were talking about aspirations of someday owning a Louis Vuitton purse. WHY? I got on an elevator the other day, and I honestly wondered how beautiful the three older women would have been if they hadn’t destroyed their faces with botox and face-lifts. What is it all for? I park my 1998 Buick in between Porsches and BMWs, walk to my office with my Old Navy jeans and fUggs. I feel like a joke standing next to the woman in line at the coffee shop, digging into her designer handbag for her card.
I find feelings of envy creep forward, and I have to remind myself of what is important. It is hard not to be affected by the elevated standard of living that surrounds me. But it’s all on the surface, like the flashy feathers of peacocks. I refuse to spend money I don’t have on things I don’t need to impress people I don’t like. But everyone places value on different things, so I really shouldn’t judge those who live a life that is very different than mine.
It is in these moments of silence in which I can evaluate my life and reach a state of contentedness. Find the purpose and value in experiences and relationships. Be thankful for the things that I’ve gone through that have gotten me to this point and that through it all, I’ve managed to keep my feet on the ground. I just need to learn to keep them still every once in awhile, take a look around and enjoy the view.