Letter 71: How to change the world. . .

. . .when you work 8-5 in a semi-meaningless job

Welcome to The Learning Curve, a weekly newsletter to share our understandings, joys, and learnings through personal narratives. Our writers span many generations, cultures, identities, and ethnicities.

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As Molly and I planned The Learning Curve and brainstormed about who might be interested in writing for us, we noticed a pattern: both of us frequently thought of our former students. The teacher-student relationship is, in many ways, an opportunity to form a bond that can be cherished for a lifetime. You work closely together, problem-solving and working toward a common goal. I believe, especially in the case of Literature, classes and study involve a deep understanding of life, relationships, and the human condition, which are topics that require transparency and a sincere desire to understand characters who may be quite different than ourselves. In the case of Sarah, well, she was my student for three years, in Newspaper and a few Literature courses. I’d always thought that if I had a daughter and she turned out half as amazing as Sarah, she would be in good shape. Sarah is a gem: she is kind, incredibly intelligent and wise, even-keel, gorgeous…. the list goes on. What a pleasure it is to see her grow and become who she is meant to be, especially with all of these twists and speedbumps (as she describes below) along the way. Sarah, we’ve all been there too, and we’re rooting for you. —Emily

Announcing a new feature for our weekly letters: an AUDIO version of the newsletter, read by the author! If you’d prefer to listen to the day’s newsletter, click play in the embedded link at the top of the letter.

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Click play to hear Sarah Wheeler read today’s letter.

As many young adults do, and old adults presumably have done, recently, I’ve been having my post-grad life crisis. 

Here’s what happened. 

My entire life, everyone told me I was amazing! I can do anything I set my mind to! I can achieve my dreams! I can (and should) Change! The! World! 

As a high achiever, this was music to my ears. If I worked hard enough, not only could I succeed, my success would generate a net good outcome for the entire world. 

So, in my first step to following my dreams, I pursued vague liberal arts degrees in college. I majored in English and Spanish, subjects I was passionate about, and decided I would get a job in publishing. Eventually, I would become a writer. I’d be able to find meaning and purpose in my job and be able to generate a positive change from the work I was doing. I’d leap out of bed at 6 a.m. each morning knowing I was living my purpose and finding meaning in my work.

In a series of events, stemming from several factors (global pandemic, me getting married, publishing being more competitive than expected, luck, fate, destiny, etc.) I did not get a job in publishing.

Instead, like most of my peers, I was lucky enough to find a job at a tech company. I’d still be writing, just about ad tech. I spend my days combing through dev docs, learning to code, and writing about things like privacy laws or native ads. A year later, I’m a little better at writing, a LOT more knowledgeable about ad APIs, and feeling more and more confused about my purpose.

Like I said: I’m a high achiever, meaning it’s frighteningly easy to conflate accomplishment with meaning. I’m rewarded by checking things off the list, publishing a new article, and getting a “good work!” slack message. And sometimes it’s easy to confuse those moments of achievement with the feeling of purpose. But here’s where the crisis comes in—that feeling is not purpose.

Sometimes (often) I’ll be on a walk, thinking, “Is this it? Is it right? Am I doing what I’m ‘supposed’ to be doing?” And the dreaded, ever-present question in the Christian community: “Is my work my calling?” I don’t remember Paul listing off “content writer for the marketing department at a tech startup” as a meaningful calling. 

And to make matters worse, I’m stuck with the impending feeling of, “I need to get my life together before I have kids because once I do my life is over.” 

I won’t lie—I don’t have a powerful conclusion as I am 23 years old and still in post-grad crisis mode and don’t have it figured out. At this point, I’m pretty sure finding my “life calling” might just be a myth that profits off of our conflation of productivity and purpose. 

So how do I find “meaning?” For now, I’ve decided meaning looks less like a grandiose humanitarian career path, and more like finding those small, daily moments of goodness and joy and grace. Writing about tech isn’t my passion. But I am passionate about learning, which I do daily. I’m passionate about writing. I’m passionate about building meaningful connections. I’m passionate about things I do outside of work, and the way my consistent paycheck supports that. 

At the end of the day, I think about the world’s bus drivers, wall street traders, airport bathroom cleaners, TSA workers, and even billionaire tech CEOs, and think: aren’t we all the same? Life seems to be not about changing the world but finding meaning in the mundane. Finding joy in small moments. I’m finding my purpose is more about choosing to be a joyful and optimistic person in the nitty gritty of zoom meetings and slack messages and “constructive criticism.”

At the end of Anna Karenina, a wealthy landowner who has struggled to find his own purpose stands in the field. After trying to find fulfillment in work, in marriage, and in morality, he finds it all worthless. The pinnacle of the story is when he finally realizes, “My life now, my whole life, regardless of whatever may happen to me, each minute of it, is not only not meaningless, as it were before, but possesses the undoubted meaning of that goodness I have the power to put into it!” 

All of us will be met with daily frustrations, pointless meetings, aimless careers, bitter arguments, and most of all, boring and ordinary life. And yet. We have the opportunity to know that regardless of circumstance, passion, feeling, hopes and dreams, our life has meaning simply because we exist, we are loved, and we have hope that our little moments mean more than we could ever know. As cheesy as that sounds, it’s all I got for now. I’ll get back to you post-crisis.

Sarah’s Five Favorites

1. Ricotta cheese

2. Cloud Cuckoo Land

3. Espresso martinis

4. Pink & Whites from Trader Joe’s

5. Bronco by Orville Peck

Help, Please!

I’d love to hear others’ experiences with their post-grad slump! Also, my shower is turning orange even though I clean it very often. Any good recommendations?

With gratitude,

Sarah Wheeler

P.S. Good things take time, accepting and embracing change, and fewer, better friendships