The art of work..

“Bala, each day I am becoming more and more insecure with my job. It is kind of odd because when I entered software industry fifteen years ago, I had very little knowledge but abundant energy, but now it seems as though the tables are reversed. I am becoming more self-conscious of my role, and every new task assigned seems an overwhelming burden. I am not able to plunge into a task with that gay abandon that I used to before. Something pulls me back, and saps all my energy…”

I was talking to an old friend of mine a couple of months ago. He had called me from India, and after exchanging pleasantries, he broke into this monologue recounted above. I know he is doing well for himself - career wise. He joined a small company as a developer many years ago, and very quickly rose up the ranks to become a tech lead and subsequently a Project manager. About five years ago, he got married and now lives in a posh three bedroom apartment in Bangalore. Recently, he did achieve the distinction of becoming a father as well. In short, he is, what we would call a “successful” person with enormous talent, and in my opinion, a very good brain for software.

As he kept talking, I was reminded of a stunning verse in the Bhagavad gita. In the battlefield, Arjuna stands despondent, weak, bereft of energy (Vyasa poetically indicates that the Gandiva slips from Arjuna's hands) unable to perform his role as a warrior; and Krishna tries his best to bring him out of the mood of desperation and weakness. In the midst a Philosophical discourse on imperishability of the soul, he suddenly slips in a stark psychological insight, which hits you on the face with tremendous force, if one would listen to it with attention He says:

hato va prapsyasi svargam
jitva va bhoksyase mahim
tasmad uttistha kaunteya
yuddhaya krta-niscayah

Freely Translated: “Arjuna, if you die killing these people, you attain Heaven; or if you happen to kill them, you get to enjoy the richness of earthly pleasures. Either way, you have no choice, but to fight. It is your vocation to fight, what are you worried about. So my dear, just get on with it with all that you have got”

It is an interesting psychological truism by the master. When the push comes to shove, that is all there is to it. When an occupation - that one loves and is inclined towards - is adopted after years of training and experience, one just gives it the best that we can till we quit. And we quit, not because of fear, boredom, cowardice or nervousness, but quitting out of the fullness of having done one’s job well. One of the important elements that conveniently gets left out in formal education is the simple fact that the role that we so assiduously prepare ourselves to play ultimately has no relevance to who we are. As we get older, and our bodies and minds get a bit rusty and weary, this realization slowly descends into us - What Psychologists call a “mid-life” crisis. A gnawing sense of futility and purposelessness of one’s vocation, and a faint whisper of a call that goes deeper than our formal thinking can take us - beckons us.

My favorite mystical poet Kahlil Gibran writes on this other worldly call so beautifully when he says

“The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed. The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.”

Getting stuck ( in the sense, that believing that without it you are nobody) in a role, and languishing in it is the surest way of suffocating one’s life. The other day I was talking to a practicing anthropologist, enroute my flight to Seattle, and a very interesting fact stuck me as we were discussing Hindu mythology. I told him, the symbol of Krishna is perhaps the most audacious of all incarnations of God in any culture. For the simple reason, there is an element of intense playfulness in his life at all stages. As a naughty kid, a lusty lover, a crowned prince, a strong warrior, a wily diplomat, a loving son, a compassionate friend, a treacherous schemer - he adorns all these roles with a lightness that is almost unbearable (Milan Kundera wrote a wonderful book with this title “The unbearable lightness of being”). Like the Greek Gods, Krishna bristled with energy.

So the question then is this: Can we do our jobs with a tremendous playfulness (not to be misunderstood as childish), and try the best we can, given the limitations of circumstances beyond our control, and enjoy every moment without allowing it to become a burden. The great warrior in Arjuna, who could wield the bow blind-folded, strike a moving target with impunity and with nonchalance, becomes paralyzed at a seminal moment in his life; and the message his charioteer gives him is: “Enjoy shooting your arrows, your target is immaterial”..

Think about it…

God bless…