Hello from my full-time job

working the 9-5 I said I'd never work.

Never did I dream the day would come where I would work in an office. Or be writing this newsletter after a full day’s work [and running on fumes to do it].

For most of my life, the idea of a 9-5 literally repulsed me. When I was about 16, I declared that I would never wear a pencil skirt, or sit in a cubicle, and I manifested that life. The entirety of my adult life thus far has involved developing a robust filmmaking business that nurtured my ultra creative inclinations. I worked hard in my twenties to acquire a Rolodex of clients that fulfilled my desire to travel the world, and experience moments of culture and tradition that fill my heart with joy.

When the pandemic hit, everything in my life changed. And instead of working hard to find projects, I crumpled to the floor and had multiple crises. I watched as my business virtually dissolved before my eyes. The thing is, if I’m honest with myself, I had already been feeling a shift in what I wanted to be doing before 2020 even arrived. I knew that I had outgrown the business that I had created in 2015, and the mere thought of reverting back to what I used to do at the beginnings of my career made me recoil. I wasn’t a failure, but it felt like I was. So, although it was incredibly unfortunate timing, I knew that my time for change was here.

About two months ago, I was approached for a position that came out of left field. The process progressed very quickly, and within a week of the initial call, I was invited in for a final interview. I was intrigued but not yet convinced. Not much could come in between my desire to continue being a business owner.

During this final interview, I heard my worst nightmare realized: “We report in-person every day.” Now, I’ve spent the past decade of my life reporting to no-one but myself, and promoting an idealist version of work-life balance—a lifestyle where I work for my most productive hours in a day [11-3p], and fill my calendar with activities that serve to cultivate more habits of intentionality and cultural experiences. Yet here I was, sitting in front of my interviewer, staring the one thing I dreaded most in the face.

Ultimately, I was embarrassed, because for the past several years, I watched the corporate world take a turn towards remote working, and I’ve talked anyone’s ear off that would listen about my hot takes on productivity. I advocated for weekly Shabbat dinners amongst my friend group, and wondered why we couldn’t have a shorter work week like Finland is aiming to create. So, being met with a job offer where I’d have to show up every day, from 9-5 in this [post-ish] pandemic world, I froze.

How would I continue to strike a balance? How would I continue to be an advocate for living an intentional life when I would no longer have the luxury of my own time?

As the decision to take this job loomed urgently before me, I had a conversation with my therapist. I spent the session in tears, spilling all of my apprehensions like drops of rain in a summer storm. I was fearful of losing my time. I was fearful of being forgotten as a creator. I was fearful of losing my individualism. My therapist is always nurturing and understanding of my big dreams, and validates what is rattling me. But something shifted as I shared a deep concern— “I’m just not a 9-5 person, and I hate the idea of becoming another spoke in the wheel. What if I lose my purpose?”. Suddenly, her demeanor changed. “Maya,” she said, “you can’t change the world or the way things work without truly understanding them from the inside”. And she was right. I’ve never worked a 9-5. How could I know if I were a “9-5 person” or not? How could I possibly lose my way if I don’t even know what the way is? I realized that although I am completely entitled to my fears, if I let them hold me back, I may never be able to live in the world I hope to see. It was in this therapy session that I discovered how tightly I was clutching on to this formed identity of being a free agent because I was afraid. I was fearful to give anything of myself to anyone but myself. The reality was that I was standing at the edge of this cliff for months, and I had to jump.

When I decided to accept this job, it was as if the clouds separated, and I realized that beneath this cliff was a bed of the most stunning wildflowers that cradled my plunge. And since I began in my position—albeit batty with meetings, onboarding, planning, and reorienting myself—has been a total breath of fresh air. Oddly, I feel renewed, I feel supported, and I feel super creative. I never would have expected that. Of course, navigating taking time for myself when there are more guardrails in place is an obstacle I will have to face, but I am learning to face it with less fear. It will all fall into place.

I’m learning how to remain compassionate toward myself as I acquaint to this new lifestyle. I can feel completely validated within the folds of just being. I’m doing things, I’m creating. I’m having coffee with new colleagues, and empowering creatives. And what’s cool is that with the support of an organization that’s bigger than just me, I can expedite my dreams of making a difference. I am creating more of the world I wish to see. And in the end, that’s all that counts.