Is “Workism” Keeping Us From Happiness?

For the last five months, I’ve been taking an admittedly selfish deep dive.

Selfish in some ways (because it’s all about me) and selfless in others (because a better me will make me a better wife, friend, well, you get the picture).

It’s been a busy five months. I’ve explored past lives, interpreted dreams and envisioned the future. I’ve taken workshops and classes, completed every personality and strengths quiz I could find and hired a well-being consultant to help me zero in on my purpose.

What has been gnawing at my soul is this belief that I have a greater purpose. One I’m not living up to. And I better find it and fast, or the lack of action will destroy the very gift I’m supposed to share. Kind of heavy, huh?

With all this focus on my “work” and my “purpose,” I plunged into reading The Atlantic’s “Workism Is Making Americans Miserable” by Derek Thompson.

In the article, Thompson writes that workism is “the belief that work is not only necessary to economic production, but also the centerpiece of one’s identity and life’s purpose; and the belief that any policy to promote human welfare must always encourage more work.” He went on to say we often attach religion-like qualities to work, expecting our work to provide “identity, transcendence and community.”

Workism is especially prevalent among the college-educated. Yes, I’m looking at you, my master’s degree.

Thompson postulates we should make work less central in our lives and find more satisfaction outside of the office. According to Gallup, 87 percent of employees worldwide aren’t engaged in their work. With a percentage like that, no wonder we are looking beyond the workplace for personal fulfillment.

Thompson’s article has made me think — a lot, even for me. What really is the source of my angst? Am I simply a victim of workism? Or could it be something else entirely?

Volunteer Work

Since moving to my current home in Texas a little over two years ago, I’ve done little volunteering. I’ve taught free yoga classes for public school employees (a subject and group close to my heart), yes, but not much else. Before our move, I formally volunteered for local organizations. Is that the missing link?

Public Involvement

Everywhere I have lived as an adult, I quickly became a part of the community fabric and on a first-name basis with elected officials and community leaders. This move marks the first time I haven’t been somehow part of the public arena. Instead, I did my work at a wellness studio (honorable work at a place with a wonderful mission) and went home. Maybe I was missing the grander community connection?

Deep Friendships

I enjoyed meaningful friendships in the past. My support system was strong. Since moving, I’ve been slow to form deep bonds with others. Partly to soften the sting should we move again. Partly because making friends can be more challenging when we get older. Could this be the reason I feel ungrounded?

Reviewing the gaps in my life, very superficially described above, I know I need to spend more time establishing links with others and my community. Yet, my overwhelming gut feeling that I am not heading true north predates my move. I’ve been carrying that hole around inside me for decades.

I’m not searching for happiness. I’m seeking purpose. I don’t want to work for simply more stuff. If anything, I want more time with those I care about and more time to pursue hobbies. I also want my work — how I earn income — to serve a greater purpose than paying the bills. I need to make an impact.

Am I putting unfair and impossible expectations on what I do for a living? Am I asking work to fulfill me in ways it’s not designed? Am I setting myself up for disappointment?

Truth told, I don’t have answers to those questions. At least not at this moment. I am certain, though, that this path I am taking is going to lead me to the answer. And that makes me pretty darn happy.