A Song for Growth
A year ago, a friend of mine got a job at a well known tech company. He had been slogging through the interviews, and he finally got an offer. Obviously he deserved it. He was a hard worker, and his attitude for success and life was admirable to say the least. I knew he was beyond qualified.
But at the time, I was on a career path I couldn’t see myself being happy in. I had made the mistake of staying in the industry mainly for the money. Every month in the industry was a reminder of how much I did not want to stay. It created a nasty cycle of overthinking and career angst. Feelings of inadequacy and existentialism rooted themselves deep inside me. I couldn’t focus on anything and was utterly disconnected from the work I was doing.
I admit I wasn’t happy for him. When he first told me, my first reaction was shameful indifference. It wasn’t just that he got a job he was excited for, but he was so dang happy working there everyday. He seemed to genuinely enjoy the work he was doing — a concept that was frustratingly foreign to me. When each of my days were filled with the buzzing question “what the hell am I doing?”, I couldn’t stand the idea of people I knew progressing without me. My professional network of individuals became a breeding ground of resentment. LinkedIn became a Hot Topic of despair, and my friend was in that proximity.
It was around this time — one year ago — that I lost this job during COVID. I was upset at the job for doing something to me — my own astonishing entitlement. I blamed the role itself for being subpar. I blamed the managers of the young company for being incompetent. I blamed COVID. I blamed everything, really. Anger initially replaced all accountability.
But the more I really considered what had happened, the more an image of myself came to mind: a mental portrait compiled with pictures of my own laziness during the remote work. It was an ugly mental image, but an honest one. It was a stark realization after the act, like sitting on your butt and watching what put you there from below. The more I reflected on what had happened, I came to realize I didn't take the role seriously. I didn’t respect the opportunity and didn’t provide the quality work it deserved. Essentially, I got what I deserved.
Last month was the anniversary of that day. As the date approached, I was met with a rather existential question (but what else is new lately): have I changed? My knee-jerk thought is yes, of course. I know my indifference toward the role resulted in my dismissal. I also know I acted like an entitled child to my friend. I check the boxes to measure my “progress”: better career path; better active lifestyle; better mental approach. I also like to think I've become less arrogant and entitled through the humbling experience. The important areas covered...
Right?
A part of me knows I haven’t changed in other ways. I haven't gotten better at focusing. I don’t think I’ve really improved on managing my time. I still walk with the seeds of uncertainty in my actions, and I don’t think I handle uncertainty well at all. Anxiety still holds me, as does droughts of being unmotivated. These are aspects of myself I judge as contributing factors to my job loss. They are also just parts of me I’d like not to exist long term.
I will be starting my new career path in publishing. I’m beyond happy, but feel the echoes of my past mistakes influencing my feelings. In the face of this new opportunity, I must confront whether I have grown or not. Because if absolute change isn’t satisfied, can one say “I’ve grown”?
If I have changed parts of myself, but there still exist other aspects that occupy the space within me, does it constitute true growth? Is growth measured by the things we leave behind, or things gained? Ultimately the fear is if true change isn’t met, then I will be doomed to repeat the same mistakes.
Truth be told, I still don’t have an answer to this conundrum. But I feel I am going in the right direction toward growth. I discovered the song “Abandon Window” by Jon Hopkins recently and found a remix of the track by one of my favorite electronic artists, Moderat.
Ironically I came across the remix around the same time I got the official offer from the publishing company. The track opens with a steady looped beat over some ethereal chords, and slowly progresses with the help of a thrumming bass and rattling hi-hats into a worthy crescendo of synths while still maintaining that consistent beat the song started with. The song grew from an original point that stayed throughout, but unfolded itself into a beautiful cacophony of harmony and chaos.
I wonder if maybe that is the essence of growth. From an original point, you ride the unstoppable momentum upward. You don’t lose the core of what you started with, but you gain new things along the way. If you can’t look back at yourself with a critical eye, then maybe you’re not growing. I can try to change the parts of myself that hold me back from true happiness, but I need to keep the important stuff of what makes me me. What that stuff is, I don’t know. All I can do is continue moving forward, and unfold with life around me.
[Cover image by Gabe Rebra via Unsplash]
LISTEN:
Abandon Window — Jon Hopkins (Moderat Remix)
Jonah Thedorff is a (somewhat) recent graduate from the University of California, Berkeley. His literary experience is composed of two self-published two books, winning a writing contest, and contributing to Vocal and Medium under the surname Equals. He enjoys writing about the arts, culture, and anything that peaks his fancy. In his free time, you can catch him re-watching a Studio Ghibli movie, running for a 5k, or running from a bear.