All Things Considered, I Choose Manual Labor

The crucial thing to live for is the
sense of life in what you are doing, +
if that is not there, then you are living
according to other peoples' notions
of how life should be lived.
—Joseph Campbell
 

Campbell also poignantly says, "The land of people doing what they think they ought to do or have to do is the wasteland." I read these two well-known quotes by Mr. Follow-Your-Bliss in the book Undoing Perpetual Stress by Richard O'Connor (highly recommend). They are so appropriately fitting for this post that has been brewing in me for some time. The inspiration comes from the NYTimes.com article, "The Case for Working With Your Hands," which overviews the book with the same title by Matthew Crawford.

What to do, what to do?
I discovered that NY Times article in September at a crucial point in my recovery from depression, when I was getting myself together to start working again. The questions, of course, that I have agonized over in search of 'the perfect answer' to (at least a hundred times since I was a kid):

"What will I do?"

"What can I do?"

"What am I good at?"

Perhaps the reason that as a child I was more concerned with working or finding a career instead of playing is: 1) our post-industrial society highly esteems our ability to do something (I am valuable because I can think + produce); and 2) the constantly reinforced path without possible deviation that I was taught throughout my childhood, which I also wrote previously about:

"Go to school, get a good job + you'll be set."

Recruiting for a knowledge army
Crawford in his article/book points out that we have been herded into college over the last two decades to fulfill the anticipated need for 'knowledge workers' in the fantastically new age of technology. That has certainly been my experience.

For a variety of reasons + influences, I finally landed on Graphic Design as a profession in high school (c. late 90s). The primary implication of my vocation selection:

Working with computers was 'the future' -- pronounced, "The Futur-AH," accompanied by a sweeping gesture of the arms + a gaze of wonder/awe toward the horizon of limitless possibilities.

Graphic Design was projected as one of those fields with the highest anticipated growth. It certainly did boom. I may have been one of the last 'lucky' ones to have made it into the field while the going was good in 2005 prior to the recession. In addition to the general state of the economy, I think design is a tough field to break into because the market is now extremely over-saturated with talent; institutions have been pumping grads out at a pace that far exceeds need for 10+ years. 

Unfortunately, that college-bound plan focuses so much on the distant destination/goal that the living part of it when you do finally arrive -- what it might actually be like to live + work in it every blessed day -- is an after-thought.

And, that after-thought became my unpleasant reality.




Reality Bites
When anyone asks me, "Why aren't you a designer anymore?" often with a look of utter dismay + concern for the stability of my sanity, I find it difficult to give a simple wrote answer, like, "Oh, I just grew bored of it." "I didn't like it." or "I have depression, so I can't do shit." (ha!)

There are certainly some aspects of design that I do enjoy... the parts that I don't enjoy far outnumber + outweigh the positives. It's a reason with multiple facets; if any one facet is isolated + inspected, it seems minor + trivial. But, collectively, those little things do indeed kill. No one tells you this stuff when you're young, so hear this wide-eyed, wanna-bes: Run. No seriously. Run. for. your. lives. Well, read this first... then run.

• Stress #1: No one outside of design understands what you do or how you do it. No one, therefore, fully appreciates the tremendous amount of the time it takes to do what you do. Furthermore, no one appreciates the value of what you can do as a creative problem solver. At best, they will pigeon-hole you as a mere thing-maker (logos, brochures, websites, etc.). Because clients (as well as non-designer colleagues + supervisors) undervalue what you do, everyone expects your brand of magic for free; completed the day before yesterday. "Seriously, what's wrong with you? Hurry it up already! Go, go, go!"
  
• Stress #2: Creativity is subjective, ambiguous, conceptual... not concrete. Unfortunately, creativity is a packaged as a commodity (design) in a very foreign environment; a world of business that functions on ROI. Do this + get that. There are no guarantees with creativity... there are simply too many factors outside of the designer's control. It's a complete gamble if a new campaign is going to be effective in reaching the intended audience + striking the intended emotional cord to elicit their intended response: to buy whatever crap you're selling that they probably don't really need with the money they don't have anyway. (Sorry, my cynicism is breaking through).
• Stress #3: You've got to be a great salesperson to persuade + assure your client that the ambiguous sorcery you've coerced from the very depths of your soul + slapped on a measly sheet of paper in an inordinately short amount of time is, in fact, solid gold AND it is going to make them stupid rich beyond their wildest dreams... even though you know full well you are neither a wizard nor a soothsayer. I have the worst poker face, whether it be telling an all-out untruth or talking out my ass inauthentically. When I don't fully believe in what I'm selling, the salesie-thing is a major trip-up for me professionally as a designer. The result is often a million revisions based on a client's wild whims -- attempts to quiet their nagging insecurities about the ultimate effectiveness of their big upfront $$ investment. They can't foresee the future either + that scares them, too.
• Stress #4: Contrary to what you've been told, when you work with computers, you do not work in an anti-social cocoon of blissful isolation. I had mostly wonderful clients throughout my career, particularly from my freelance biz. Many of which have become good personal friends. But, throw in a client from hell, and... well, there's a whole slew of blogs dedicated to the madness of those. Funny, only because the stories are sadly very, very true.
• Stress #5: Stress kills the creative process. It's a vicious cycle... your livelihood depends on your ability to think. But, the creative, critical thinking + problem solving processes of the brain are completely canceled out by the stress hormones produced in fight-or-flight situations, which are now triggered by the constant low-level annoyances + pressures of everyday modern living (Richard O'Connor calls this the Perpetual Stress Response). So, the more stress I experience from any of the above (or worst-case, all of the above), the less I can think + the more poorly I perform, which adds more stress + pressure to perform, which completely blocks my ability to think at all, which adds more stress + skyrockets my anxiety... until I pop or implode into depression. 

So, here I am 10 years later in the futur-ah, but it's not as fantastical nor am I as set as promised.

"What happened? Is it me?"


The Age of Disconnection
It took me many years to stop internalizing (assuming that I'm broken, flawed or just a weirdo) + consider that it may be a problem with the system surrounding me. A system that is constructed out of unrealistic expectations. Expectations that clash hard with the reality that I find myself living today.
 
The expectation to become a knowledge worker clashes with the reality that many people are not built to sit at a desk, slaving at a computer for 8+ hours a day, 50+ hours a week. Matthew Crawford observes,

"Some people are hustled off to college, then to the cubicle, against their own inclinations and natural bents, when they would rather be learning to build things or fix things... It is a rare person, male or female, who is naturally inclined to sit still for 17 years in school, and then indefinitely at work."

I discovered the hard way that I am not made to sit still + stare into a screen. A major reason is the disconnectedness I find in myself when working too long at a computer. I lose track of time engrossed in an artificial world outside of myself.

Think about it: I'm typing now, but I'm not really thinking in my head. My thoughts appear on screen before me through my fingertips. I'm writing + rewriting, moving chunks around, making connections + having realizations that I didn't have before sitting down to write, rambling on + on but trying to get to a point (eventually) with some coherence + cohesiveness. All that is happening in real-time, but everything real around me is tuned out.

The only world I'm aware of is the one on screen. I lose 4-5 hours at a time writing but don't feel like any time has passed at all. My feet usually fall asleep, but I don't notice. My face is tense as I focus my attention 18-24 inches in front of my face for hours on end. That unwavering stare solidifies my furrowed brow, squinty-eyed, angry-looking disposition; usually frozen on my face for the rest of the day. My posture continues to slump. My neck is so cranked + tense that the tiny muscles at the base of my skull begin to ache, but I don't move according to those initial subtle signals from my body. Thus, those little stress headaches develop into full-blown migraines because I'm so absorbed in this screen.

Getting in a flow -- being so absorbed in what you're doing that you lose a sense of reality, both self-awareness + time -- is very productive, which is probably why it is also so desirable + sought after in our culture of doing. But, like anything in excess, too much flow is counterproductive + unhealthy.

Being in a flow-state for long periods of time, I'm essentially training myself to be unaware all the time. Disconnectedness is a difficult habit for me to break, especially if I practice it for hours on end, every day, eack week, like... at a job. It's a honed skill that's very similar to living out-of-the-moment; the tendency behind excessive worrying about the unknown (anxiety) + also behind excessive guilt over what's already been done (depression). Obviously, I'm a master of both.

So I face a serious dilemma: I need my mind + awareness to stay in my head/body to do my job well, but my work requires me to project it into a digital world. Perhaps a large part of my depressions have been my body's + my soul's rebellion against that sedentary, disconnected system.

Consequently, the important question that I've added to that familiar sequence of big life questions comes from the wisdom of too many crappy experiences:

"What will I enjoy?"

Interacting with the world
Quoting from my updated resume, for me: "working with my hands" in a "physically active + engaging environment" where I "see the direct results of my efforts" is what I enjoy doing for hours on end on a daily basis. Based on that NY Times article + from many subsequent conversations, the desire for the tangible may not be simply something that I need.

Consider the revival + boom in the diy, maker, urban farming + self-sustainably movements over the last decade. Tangible work with tangible results may be a universal human need that's been usurped by the seemingly superior Age of Information Technology.

Many will say that the computer is simply a tool that you wield to create. By definition it is, but it's unlike any other tool that you manipulate with your hands in the physical world. It's unlike the tools you use to effect a visible, physical change on another object. This tool artificially manipulates a conceptual world of thoughts, ideas, opinions. A world where effecting change is either not possible, very difficult or ambiguous. Have you ever 'won' a debate online?

As a designer, I observed the greatest disparity between the digital + real-worlds. The digital world never quite accurately reflects the actual world. What-you-see-is-what-you-get (WYSIWYG) is an acronym used to describe the stuff you see on screen, which is a visual interpretation of the complex computer-language-code that's happening constantly behind the scenes. If you type in a program like Microsoft Word, draw in Adobe Illustrator or layout a webpage in Dreamweaver, what you see on the screen is WYSIWYG... but, it's rarely what I ever got.

At one studio, we printed things out constantly to check with reality. Inevitably, something designed beautifully + well-proportioned on screen had glaring flaws when printed. The type was either so small that grandma would have said, "What letters? Those blurry little dots?" or so large that even grandma would have been like, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. That's a little big." Don't get me started on the vain attempts to get colors on screen to match colors in print... it's simply insanity trying to do so; even standardized color matching systems have huge limitations.  

The kind of manipulation that I work so hard to accomplish with this technological tool is often without a definitive end point or result. Especially as a designer, when I did finish something after many more hours than one could fathom, I usually didn't see the effect/impact for days, weeks, months (if ever), by which point I had already moved on + was in the middle of another all-consuming project.

Though it's a little less severe when I write than when I design, the feedback loop is so far removed from my actions that there is little sense of accomplishment or satisfaction in a job well done. How do I improve + grow without the feedback of actual results? I'm left to depend upon someone's opinion or worse, my own... very dangerous.

There is a give-and-take relationship when interacting with the physical world. Flow can't be all consuming when I see the direct results of my physical actions. Interacting keeps me simultaneously connected to the awareness of myself (mind/body) + my presence in/impact on the physical world.

Interacting in the digital disrupts the natural give-and-take... to me, it seems like an unbalanced relationship. I give way more of my creative, inner-self than I ever take away.

Maybe that's why it seems so 'soul-sucking' + exhausting to me.


Wait a minute... what's this now?
We've been taught a lot of outright untrue or simplistic half-truths over the course of our lives. The intentions behind the unrealistic messages are not always meant to be deceitful or hurtful. Many messages were ingrained in us in school + throughout childhood in an effort to instill us with self-esteem.

In her book, Generation Me: why today's young Americans are more confident, assertive, entitled -- and more miserable than ever before, Jean Twenge spends an entire chapter on the false notion that, "You can be anything you want to be," with a sub-section, "Anything is possible. Never give up on your dreams." We ate that stuff up throughout our childhood from parents, teachers + TV/movies... fully believing those as given, undeniable truths.

"Outcomes on the focus on the self," according to Twenge, include: "the appearance obsession," ink as self-expression, "extending adolescence beyond all previous limits" + dramatic increase in "materialism." Not that you should go to the opposite extreme + believe that you are completely worthless + can't do anything right (messages Boomers like my mom got from her hardcore Silent Generation parents) but being too unrealistically positive is also harmful.

Unfortunately, artificially inflating our sense of ability + self-worth in the short-term, which as I discovered in application turns out to be largely unfounded, has long-term ramifications. That false self-esteem is highly unstable + psyche-shattering when tested by life. all. the. time.

When I inevitably failed at what I was 'putting my mind to,' the only logical excuse had to be due to a personal malfunction because so many people of authority say/believe that statement, it must be true. On the other equally negative extreme, Jean Twenge points out those self-esteem programs trained a lot of narcissists, who are "overly focused on themselves  + lack empathy for others...  cannot see another person's perspective," + who now "are bad relationship partners + can be difficult to work with."

The failure of the "self-esteem education movement" reinforces age old truths: There are no short cuts, no easy ways out... nothing is for free. Self-esteem, like happiness, is not a fish that you can catch. Both are by-products, not things to chase after + obtain... though our culture does a fantastic job of teaching the exact opposite.


Living to Work
The over-simplicity of that self-esteem inflating statements also leaves out a harsh reality: Just because I can do something, does not necessarily mean that I should do it. For me, design falls into this truth. I can design, in fact I'm a good designer. Note: Like all 'good' designers, I'm endlessly tortured by self-doubt + self-criticism to the point that I believe that I am, in fact, quite an awful designer with no ideas, no talent, never good enough... a complete fraud. Trust me, it's not difficult leap or conclusion for me. When I say that "I'm a good designer," I am simply repeating the statements of outsiders looking in (peers, mentors + clients) who view my work + tell me that I am a good one. It's not coming from a place of self-boasting. 

Again, just because I can design (possibly even well), does not mean that I should. Design is extremely unhealthy for me -- see the above note for the tip of my self-loathing iceberg. The costs of doing something I can do as a full-time, lifelong vocation is not worth the risk to my long-term health + physical/emotional well-being.

For years, I regretted my decision to become a designer + kicked myself for the time I spent in + $$$ on school studying it. Within the last two years, that regret morphed into burning rage + resentment of the 'evil' field that design is... Oh, the blame game.

Now at the end of my grieving process, I think I'm finally arriving at a place of peace with it. I only believe that 20% of the profession is straight from hell. I'm completely certain that the other 80% is undeniably soul-sucking for me because of what I am bring to the table (personality + past experiences).

It's a more accurate perception of reality, though still sprinkled with a healthy hint of resentment.


The Poor Plight of the Laborer
Another common untruth we've been taught is: "You can do anything you put your mind to." Think about it: can you work on a car engine?

Even if you have the head-knowledge of the inner workings on an engine (acquired from the internet or a manual), most cars are not made to be serviced by the layman anymore. They are largely controlled by computer chips + sensors. On top of that, if you don't have the specialized tools (thanks, VW) or the upper body-strength to create enough torque to loosen a rust-welded bolt, well... "Good luck to ya, Smarty-Pants. The tow truck will be with you shortly."

Crawford wisely points out in his article that, "The trades suffer from low prestige, and I believe this is based on a simple mistake. Because the work is dirty, many people assume it is also stupid. This is not my experience." This is also not my experience.

As I mentioned, working with my hands helps me to maintain a healthy balance of awareness + flow; connection + disconnection; yin + yang. The constant adjustments that I make while working with physical objects keeps me constantly thinking + reacting in the moment. Planning + problem solving happens so instantaneously + organically that to isolate it as a quality or skill on a resume seems obvious + unnecessary.

In late-September, I discovered a job posting on Craigslist for a Pet Groomer's Assistant at K9 Kingdom in Wexford. Most of these entry-level, hands-on, minimum wage positions require the old catch-22 of previous experience. Thankfully, the supervisor who interviewed me had also gone through a career change herself in her 30s to become a groomer. I also, thankfully, I had sufficient transferable skills from my previous experiences (who knew those 6 years at Walmart would be so useful?) to give me a fighting chance.

I applied, interviewed, which wisely included a half-day of observing all that the job entailed + was hired all within the same week. As I began training + catching on very quickly, I had the most amazing + encouraging epiphany,

"Hey, hey! I don't suck at everything?!"

It's so nice to have the feedback loop be instantaneous. I get a dog in need of a bath, I bathe it, blow dry it, brush it, clip its nails... an hour later, the transformation is complete; it's clean + playful again.

There is definitely a reason why animals are often used in therapy. There is no greater joy than working with animals. It's impossible for me to be distressed when staring into the face of a happy doggie + wiggling with them in excitement. Plus, animal-cuteness just melts my face off hourly, which is why I post the #dailydoseofcute at @K9Kindom to Twitter so often.

After a month, I've noticed my muscles have developed (I now have strong, meaty hands, so don't make me man-handle you:) + the pathways in my brain have worn the familiar grooves of proficiency. I can wield my tools gracefully + much more steadily than when I first picked them up a month ago.

In a way, the trades are an art form... if you see a master in action, it's like watching a beautifully choreographed performance. A dog groomer in action is like a sculptor bringing forth the breed's ideal, most flattering shape from a mess of unruly hair + fur.


Could this be... the end of [design] as we know it?
My epiphany in regard to my relationship with design + shift to manual trades does not mean that I look upon my 'poor' designers friends with sympathy + wonder when their 'awakening' will occur. It's actually kind of dumbfounding to me that they can design without being as severely effected by the stress of the creative process or that they manage the stress much better than me. I admire them for that.

I've built relationships with a lot of designers over the years, so I feel like I can make an accurate generalization that designers are the coolest, most interesting people that I've had the pleasure of knowing. Hopefully, I don't get cut out of the fold, but I guess it's not the end of the world, if I do.

My break-up with design also does not mean that I will ever 'not' be a designer. I can't chop off education + experience from a large portion of my life, just like I can't chop off a limb (well, I guess I could technically, but it wouldn't be wise). The 10 year process of becoming + being a designer have played a large role in shaping who I am today. It's been a 1/3 of my life, not including all those years creating (drawing, making art + crafting) in elementary, middle + high school... probably closer to 2/3s. The essence of design as a creative way of thinking + problem solving is transferable to everything in life. I surely wouldn't trade that for anything.

I know to never say never, but I also know that the planets + stars will have to align in a magnificent way that balances out all the negatives in order for me to put myself into the formal role of designer again on purpose.

I may still take on the occasional project, if it is for a person/cause/organization that I am passionate about + support wholeheartedly... particularly if it's a trade of services so I don't have to deal with the paperwork of business ownership. I may even get to a point where I can work part-time, if the right opportunity arises; though, I seriously doubt that I'll ever work full-time (60+ hours) designing again.

In any event, I will never need to pay for design services for any of my own projects or the many (oh, so many) endeavors. I have some ideas to include illustrations into this blog which will revive my old love of drawing. I'm pretty excited about liking design + creating again.

Unlike a lot of other designers, designing for myself is easy-peasy... I don't have to 'sell' myself on the smoke + mirrors game. I know full well that whatever branding/identity I create really doesn't matter all that much as long as it's used consistently to personify something inanimate. I always received great feedback on my On The Vine Creative business identity, which was randomly named after a song lyric that spoke to me + became a nice play on words when describing the business as it grew + evolved.

When in doubt: simple is better + prepositional phrases are intriguing. Sorry, guys, to be that magician who reveals the slight-of-hand techniques behind those grand illusions.


What's Next?
Will I wash dogs for the duration of my working  life? I don't know... maybe, maybe not. Not to be too blase, but I kinda don't care (finally... a huge breakthrough for this perfectionist!). It's not something that I lament over for days, weeks, months or that keeps me up at night anymore.

I can see several paths before me, journeys that could take me wildly different places. I could:

• seriously do the groomer's assistant thing for a long time. Maybe one day, train + make a smooth transition to become a groomer as well.
• focus solely on advocating for mental/emotional wellness (writing, speaking, illustrating, etc.)
• take the unconventional path + become a full-time blogger in the same vane as my fave life-hackers: Chris Guillebeau (Art of Non-Comformity), Leo Babauta (Zen Habits) + Francis Tapon (WanderLearn). Mine would continue through the perspective of my depression adventures as it applies to the life-junk that everyone experiences.
• be inspired by my fave humorous illustrators like The Oatmeal, xkdc or Hyperbole and a Half to develop a style of my own; supplementing my posts with images + my income with print/chotchkie sales.
• work my little bum off harnessing my cynicism + perfecting my sarcasm to become a regular satirical contributor on cracked.com. Tehe-he.
  
• train to become a yoga therapist + act as a facilitator for the mind/body healing of those with anxiety + depression; also helping to restore balance in the disconnectedness we all experience living modern life.
• go to grad school to study: 1) Sociology + pair it with Eastern European studies to explore how society/culture impacts emotional well-being + how emotional well-being effects society/culture; 2) Ethnomusicology, focusing on the Roma to explore the interplay of society + culture on individuals + vise-verse from a different avenue; 3) Counseling Psychology to help those with similar emotional problems make their own revelations + shape their ongoing journeys; or 4) Positive Psychology + act as a facilitator/life-coach for people to live life to their fullest potential. Though, I'm a little cynical of + jaded by the 'need' for more formal education to become an even more knowledgeable, knowledge worker in another isolated, artificial environment called academia:)

A unifying theme of empowering people does begin to emerge from these paths. Who knows? Maybe I'll do all those things over the next 40 years of my working life, assuming I'm still kicking that long. Maybe I'll do some as a full-time vocation + others as an outlet or hobby. These are just the things that I'm currently aware of at this point on my journey called life. The possibilities are endless... and it's kind of exciting to think about.

Regardless, I'll continue to learn, grow, relearn, grow more, relearn again + on + on.


This time, things are going to be different
Unlike all the other times when I've dreamt of the future, I'm no longer in any big hurry to get to my destination as fast as possible. If I start down the 5-year path in the spring to teach yoga while I wash dogs + continue to write in the interim, that's cool. If I decide to do nothing beside work, pay down debt for a year or two + just have fun (for once) trying the roller derby thing before I get too old + frail, that's cool, too.

As I approach the wise-old-age of 30, I'm finally beginning to appreciate the process of life + enjoy the journey instead of being so obsessed with the destination. I'm also making peace with the past... if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change anything.

I wouldn't be the same person I am today without all of my experiences; especially the suckie, almost annihilating, depression ones.

And so, the saga continues...