We have to stop asking people the question “What do you want to do?”
It’s become a catchall where people are expected to sum up their passions, skills, hopes and dreams in some neat, explainable job title that they’re striving to reach. “What do you want to do?” is expected to be a magic question with a findable answer that unlocks the dream job you want to pursue.
The “What do you want to do?” pressure starts in high school, when juniors and seniors are asked what they’re majoring in once they get to college. Talking about how not many people magically know what they want to do at 17 years old and listing statistics on how few people end up in a field related to their college major would be a much longer rant, but suffice to say that this is where the trouble starts.
Plenty of people do have a specific, attainable goal in mind when they’re asked that question, and I’m happy for them. But I think there are also a lot of people who, like me, struggled for years with “What do you want to do?” pressure because they didn’t yet have an answer, or because the answer didn’t fit neatly into what capitalism and work culture expect from us.
Starting with that college major question, society encourages us to begin backward. Home in on that magic job title that you want, and then outline your steps from there. But what if you have no idea what you want to do? I’ve spent so many hours of my life combing through Indeed job listings, taking personality and career aptitude tests (both informal and professional), and researching degrees in the hopes of finding the exact magic job title that made me say, “That’s what I want to do.” I didn’t get anywhere until I tried the opposite approach of simply noodling around with things I was interested in until something clicked.
In that vein, I wanted to close out this mini series on creativity and give you a fun starting point for the new year with a few questions that (I hope) are more helpful:
What is one small thing that is a source of joy for you right now?
Sometimes we fall into the trap of thinking that joy and passion are only found in the Big Life Moments or the Right Job or the Huge Milestones. I’ve become enthralled with the joy of the everyday, of making sure you have moments to look forward to in your day-to-day life and that the things that are important to you make a regular appearance in your routine.
I also know that sometimes it’s easier to pinpoint small things that bring you joy when everything else is difficult. I went through a time where one of the few things that made me happy was listening every single day on my commute to the What’s Inside soundtrack, which is singer-songwriter Sara Bareilles giving us her version of the songs that she wrote for the Broadway musical version of Waitress. Listening to those songs over and over in the car didn’t translate immediately into any big life changes, but those small moments of beauty helped me through a tough time and the lyrics reminded me every time that our lives are stories, and stories are change, and I would not be stuck in the same hard place forever.
My therapist asked at the time if anything made me happy, and one of the few things that came to mind was “cooking while listening to a podcast about murder.” And you know what? I stand by that. Sometimes it’s all you can do to hold on to small, everyday things and keep your head above water so you can eventually gather strength for your next adventure.
How can you expand your definition of “work” in the coming year?
Our American work culture definition of the word “work” is a narrow one. “Work” means you go to an office and sit at a desk and get a paycheck.
But when you think about your life, what parts of it involve “work”? You don’t get a paycheck for serving in your church, volunteering in your community, raising children, or caring for family members who are elderly and/or have health issues, but all of those fulfilling and necessary tasks involve real work. Creative endeavors that require time, focus and energy – whether or not they ever result in money – are also work. Any definition of the word that doesn’t have space for these vital activities needs to grow.
What stories do you want to be part of your 2021?
How much do you think about the TV shows and movies you’re watching, the books you’re reading, and the music and podcasts you’re listening to? Is there a recurring theme you’re noticing in what you’re drawn to? How are these stories serving as inspiration and/or shaping who you are as a person?
To go back to college for a second … one of the classes that I still think about all the time had nothing to do with my major but everything to do with existing as a human in the world. Our professor talked about big ephemeral ideas, one of which was the concept of interiority and how the stories you take in shape who you are. That concept of an inner life that’s built in part by the stories I’m absorbing has stuck with me.
I’ve always loved to read, and I try to be thoughtful about the movies and TV shows that I watch. Sometimes thinking about stories and interiority shapes a reading and/or watching “theme” in my mind. Maybe it’s a time where I need to rewatch my favorite black-and-white movies and read old Hollywood biographies, or get a stack of romantic comedies from the library and find a new comforting sitcom to watch.
As I plan for 2021 and think about the stories that I want to shape my year and me as a person, I know one type of story that I want to be a big part of my reading year is memoir. I think reading memoir is one of the best and most immediate ways to step into someone else’s shoes and expand your view of the world, and I can’t think of a better way to approach reading in 2021.
Do you need a season of open exploration, or do you want to create a framework?
If you’re someone who is looking to explore your creativity in a framework, I can’t recommend Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way course highly enough (you can read more about how it reignited my creativity here).
Both directions are valid. For 2020, I created a reading framework for myself so I would have structure as I made a real effort to explore the world of adult fiction for the first time. It was a ridiculously successful experiment that has given me an unreasonable, lifelong to-be-read list with so many books that I’m excited to read. Now that I have that accomplishment behind me, I’m going to try to step away from structured lists to “read whatever I want” and feel free to explore in my 2021 reading life.
What will make you feel accomplished when you look back on 2021?
I’ve been noodling around the concept of being “accomplished” vs. being “productive.” People were once described as “accomplished” for drawing-room talents like painting, playing an instrument, or singing, pastimes that didn’t translate into a job or paycheck or career but were considered valuable because they entertained the community and brought people together. There was no end point, no “I’m productive because I reached X goal” for this type of creativity. It was enough to put time, work and energy into something to feel a sense of purpose and to watch yourself grow. Your version of being “accomplished” for its own sake could be playing the piano or sewing or baking – or if you haven’t discovered your purposeful pastime yet, maybe 2021 will be your year.
This is the final installment in a 5-part series about creativity in 2020. Go here to read Part 1, which lays out one practical framework for turning big ideas into small, doable, fun goals. Part 2 is about preparing vs. “feeling ready” for creativity, and Part 3 is an exploration of what a healthy creative process can look like (Spoiler alert: It starts with simply showing up). Check out Part 4 (possibly my favorite installment of this mini series) for books that changed how I see the world, and please do stay tuned for a new series on creativity starting in January.