You are more than your job

When the feeling of incompleteness isn't a career problem

It's 3pm on a Tuesday.

The meeting isn't terrible. The job isn't terrible. The people aren't terrible. In fact, things are mostly fine. But a small voice keeps appearing.

Is this really all of me?

Not: I should quit. Not: I need a side hustle. Just: there are parts of me that don't get used here.

That's a very common feeling. The modern world tends to interpret it as a career problem. I think it might be actually be a human one.

Different dimensions of people

As usual, I spent a Friday evening in an internet rabbit hole, looking at how people described themselves, or were described by others, in the past — not the distant past, just a few generations back.

What's striking is the dimensionality. A blacksmith wasn't just making horseshoes. He was telling stories, learning things, passing knowledge on, participating in village life. A scientist was also a politician and a musician. A merchant kept a journal of verse. A writer was also a business owner, landlord and potter. The economy may have required multiple roles, but it also produced broader identities. People were described by several words, not one. They weren't a specialist necessarily. Or at least not a specialist that defined entirely who they were.

I found this remarkably intriguing.

Modern life has increased opportunity while subtly reducing that dimensionality. The role becomes the identity — not because anyone intends it, but because organisations need clarity over who is doing what (and who to blame when it goes wrong 😀).

Business related platform like LinkedIn also force us into a role or one dimensional descriptions of ourselves. Specialisation produces expertise and for many that is a good thing. It also potentially produces a kind of incompleteness of the human soul.

The internet has noticed this. Its solution is to monetise everything.

Love photography? Start a business.
Like writing? Build a newsletter.
Enjoy woodworking? Launch an Etsy store.

The assumption is that every interest must become economic value. There's something to that. But there's also a trap: you haven't escaped work. You've extended it into evenings and weekends, or worse, you've killed the thing that gave you joy by turning it into a job.

Multidimensional People

But I think there's a category that sits between the two – and one the internet, well, Instagram particularly, is catching up on. The rise, or rekindling, of the multidimensional person who isn't just about work...and money.

Not everything needs a business model. Some things exist because they make you more complete. A sketchbook. A local choir. Learning astronomy. Writing essays nobody reads. Tending to your garden, and not sharing everything on Instagram.

The value isn't what they produce. The value is what they do to you — who they help you become.

We spend much of modern life optimising for usefulness, and then wonder why we feel incomplete. But human potential is larger than economic potential.

So if it's 3pm on a Tuesday and you sense there's more in you than your job requires — that feeling may not be a signal to leave. It may not even be a signal to start something. It may simply be a signal that some parts of yourself need an outlet that has nothing to do with productivity, audiences, or revenue.

Not every interest needs monetising. Not every talent needs a platform.

Some parts of ourselves exist simply because they make us more human. The question isn't whether those parts are useful. The question is whether we can afford to lose them.