My Bliss

"Follow your bliss." How many times have we heard this overplayed Oprah pop psychology? Just do what you feel passionate about and you'll achieve everlasting harmony between your work and non-work life. In fact, you'll be so happy, you won't even realize how much you're "working." It's the modern day path to nirvana. I'll admit that I've drunk the Kool-Aid and after careful consideration, I've decided that my bliss is a frustrating tease.

It all started 8 years ago when I lapped up the Kool-Aid and decided to leave a promising career to embark on a new career as an historian. I was following my bliss, but my bliss wasn't going to make it that easy. Instead of studying at an idyllic southern university, my bliss said, "If you want me, you need to move to the northeastern post-industrial wasteland to study at the Concrete Jungle where it snows 8 months out of the year." I took another sip of the Kool-Aid and agreed.

Six years later, I returned to the South and finished my degree. "There," I told my bliss, "I held up my part of the bargain. Now, bring on the bliss." "OK," my bliss replied, with a sly smile, "If you want me, you'll need to teach over 160 ambivalent students each semester while simultaneously looking for a full-time job. And, oh, did I mention that you won't drive 15 minutes to the major university across town? Instead, you need to commute 90 minutes one way. All of this will leave you with precious little energy to write or do research." I took another sip of the Kool-Aid and agreed.

Three months ago, I secured the Holy Grail of academia - a full-time, permanent, tenure-track job in the Humanities. "There," I told my bliss, "Now, I have you." "Hmm," replied my bliss, "If you want me, you need to accept a relatively low salary, a heavy teaching load, and another commute." I took another sip of the Kool-Aid and agreed.

Just as I decided that I followed my bliss to a pretty good place - my bliss scampered farther down the path earlier this week. Looking back from the bend in the road, my bliss said, "If you want me, you'll have to work just as hard but take home even less money." This time, I shook my fist at my bliss. "Why can't you just stay still? Why do you have to keep pushing me to prove my devotion? Don't you know how hard I've worked?" I cried while setting up the decorations and party favors for a real, full-on Pity Party.

After some time for reflection, I'm beginning to pull myself out of this funk. In these difficult times, I keep reminding myself that in the end, I'll still get paid to talk about and think about history all day. Reading history books isn't a hobby that I try to squeeze in around my work life. While many of my friends struggle to find secure employment, I've been lucky enough to land a job that lets me live where I want to live. I get to interact with some pretty great people - and yes, some of them are students. From this perspective, the good outweighs the bad. Maybe it's the Kool-Aid, and if so, fill up my cup again.

That said, I still think this whole forced furlough idea stinks.