Do you love your work? Really love it? As for Paul Staley, well, not so much.
As I approach a significant birthday in my mid-60s, I have been thinking about how work should fit into my life. When discussing this with people I have been advised that if I love what I’m doing then I should continue.
This doesn’t help. I may have enjoyed work, but I have never loved it. And I’m okay with that.
Over the years work has brought me income, camaraderie and a sense of accomplishment, but as nice or necessary as any of those are, I never thought of them as worthy of love. As for what I actually do at work, I always regarded a job as a gumbo of ingredients, some to my liking and some not. I also think that if Diogenes were alive today, he would search in vain not for an honest man, but for one who sincerely enjoys going to a lot of meetings.
The notion that one should work only at something one loves is also, above all else, a statement of enormous privilege. I suspect that the billions of my fellow human beings who lead a subsistence existence do not console themselves with the thought that while the pay may be lousy, they are at least doing something they really enjoy.