The Motivation behind my Job

Job:
n
A regular activity performed in exchange for payment, especially as one's trade, occupation, or profession.

Lots of people complain about their jobs. The work is crap, the boss is crap, the colleagues are crap, the hours are crap, the pay is crap etc. Gone are those days where I still vehemently believe that perhaps somehow, it is possible to love what you are doing, and that one should always be in a job that they love. Though it is possible to enjoy your work, I'm sure there is definitely one aspect that is less than desirable?

And when the going gets tough, its down to self-motivation to drag yourself to the place you loathe. Just recently, after I came back from a holiday overseas, I finally found my motivation.

I love traveling. Some years ago, I heard someone proclaim that traveling is like an addiction. At that point in time, I found that terribly arrogant, because traveling is after all, a very expensive hobby and not everyone gets the opportunity to do so. Some people never get to leave their homes. However, I begin to sympathize with that stand. I am thus very thankful that I have been very fortunate to have been presented with opportunities to see the world (mostly many thanks to my parents).

Traveling and seeing this world stir all sorts of emotions and thoughts in me. With each travel, I see how big this world is, how there are so many places, people and things to discover, experience and learn about. And then I feel so small, my life and all its worries become so insignificant as compared to this world. There is simply so much more to life and in this world to waste time fretting about the trivialities.

I feel enriched, exhilarated, intoxicated as I stand before the incredible beauty and mysteries of the wonders of nature, the amazing intricacies of the works of great artists and architects, and the culturally-diverse lifestyle of another fellow human being. I am thus awed. Traveling always puts you out of your comfort zone. It’s like being thrown out into this ocean of the universe, and you just have to learn to survive and live with it.

And there, because I love traveling so much, I need the dosh to sponsor this interest. Therein lies the motivation for my job. I drag myself to work with the thought that I simply have to do it so that I can go off and discover yet another corner of this world (This motivation was most necessary when my boss had kindly cut short my holiday with his refusal to give me the leave I wanted, not because I am extremely indispensable to the company, but rather just so to have me around in case something crops up. And of cos nothing of that sort happened and I spent those days staring blankly into the computer where I could have been enriched, exhilarated, intoxicated). I don't earn a lot but I rather scrimp and save so that I can go traveling than lead an extravagant lifestyle of material goods and comforts.

Working becomes the cost I have to pay for traveling.