Free beer! Well, the beer is free in the same way that Bernie Sanders vision of college is free—that is to say that someone is paying for it, and that someone is me. Seeing as though it is 11am, I will be foregoing the free (not free) beer in favor of free (again, not free) coffee.
Today is my first day at WeWork. You might have heard of it. You may not have. I can’t be expected to know everything you have or have not heard of. In short, it is a community work space. There are small offices as well as a large community space where people from all types of businesses can come in to work. WeWork has offices all over the world. This WeWork office is on floors 5,6, and 7 of a new building in downtown Bellevue. I have signed up for a “hot desk” which gives me the ability to plop down anywhere in the community space. There are small phone booths where I can pop into for private moments as well as a large outdoor area which overlooks the city.
So why am I here?
Well why are any of us really here? What does it all mean? I don’t know. That’s not what this blog entry is about. I can’t answer that question for you so stop asking.
I am here, as far as the IRS is concerned, to work. It is useful for me to have a central place to work while in between sales meetings. It is a completely justifiable business expense.
I am also here because Century Link DSL has a max DL speed of around 7mb/s in Fall City, which is just maddening when you’re trying to download a 50GB video game.
But the real reason I am here is because I was meant to visit the woods, not to live in the woods.
For those of you unaware, my job involves a certain amount of isolation, and by ‘certain’, I mean ‘complete and utter.’ I am an owner of a one-man company that I chiefly operate out of my home-office. I spend a fair amount of time in meetings with customers, but I do not have, outside of my two dogs, any coworkers. I can go full days with the extent of my human interaction consisting of me holding a phone up to my face or staring at my computer screen.
When the highlight of a day, as it relates to interacting with other human beings, is talking to the teller at the bank, exchanging witticisms with the UPS delivery driver or talking about house projects with your neighbor, well, your life is objectively a sad, lonely and cancerous place. Well, yours is not, but mine is.
That sounds really sad, and sure, I’m embellishing a bit, but I’m not looking for your pity, just trying to provide context for the conditions that have led me into the shared workspace. At the very least, you deserve my honesty (well, most of you do. Some of you deserve a lifetime of malevolent deception).
I’ve had a series of epiphanies lately. I need to be around people. I need to feel a sense of energy and vitality in my professional environment. I can’t do that working in shorts and a T-shirt by myself at home. This isn’t a failure on Atlas’ and Dagny’s part. I’ve talked to them about it and they understand. Quite frankly, they’ve worked extremely hard to bridge the gap and I appreciate their effort.
For a long time, I’ve been trying to put a square peg in a round hole. I’ve tried to become ok with my professional lifestyle. And the reality is that I’ve done it. I’ve jammed that peg into that hole, and in the process, I’ve damaged both the peg and the hole. I’ve had to hurt some pieces of myself in order to be ok with such an isolated work environment. I’ve stunted my own growth.
We all have an optimal living and working environment. Just as my optimal living environment is not a fortified enclave deep in the woods, neither is my ideal working environment a remote cavern.
I am basically Gollum—living and existing alone in a dark cave, separated from all humankind. I’d like to be a little less Gollum and a little more Smeagol. If I continue to live in this cave, if I continue to live separate from humanity, I will continue to atrophy and before I know it, I’ll be droning on about “my precious”, eating raw and wiggly fish and skulking around in an ill-fitting loin cloth. Spending a few hours every day in a cool community space with other people is a step toward being Smeagol.
Forming relationships with other people in the context of a normal workday will make me a better person, a better business owner, a better husband and a better _________. Probably not a better indoor soccer player though. Maybe. But I’m not going to hold my breath.
I believe that when we are all living in accordance with our values and principles, every area of our life is improved. We sleep better. We eat healthier. We are more ambitious. We are happier. We are better. Conversely, when we voluntarily harm ourselves, we become less authentic, less loving, less honest, less passionate, and less alive.
So that’s why I’m here. I’m here because I’ve acknowledged that community and human interaction is something that I value in the context of work. I’m not a one-man wolfpack. I’m not an island. I’m here because the type of person I want to sculpt necessitates more than bank tellers and dogs and UPS drivers and coffee shop baristas and neighbors and voices on telephones and names in email addresses. I can no longer continue to damage my peg or my hole (sorry, but I couldn’t resist) by forcing myself to be something I’m not.
And yes, I’m also here for the free (not free) beer and coffee.
*Note- I can already see that I’m going to need to assert my dominance with the Indian contingent on the ping pong table. Shit’s about to get real.