The World Is Conspiring To Make Us Happy.
Too often, I default into the mindset of what I am missing rather than why this could be happening.
“I have a lot of proof the world is conspiring to make me happy.”
– Matthew McConaughey
I was one of those kids—the ones who graduated college during the pandemic spaced six feet apart during their ceremony. It started when they gave us a two-week work from home mandate. No in-person classes. Life was moving to Zoom for two weeks. Fine, I thought, but that is it. I remember scoffing at my professor's statement when he told us to expect to be gone not for two weeks but the rest of the semester—his brother-in-law worked for the CDC. My quality world didn’t include this. The best four years of my life evaporating before me? Yeah, right.
My friends and I set off to Florida to enjoy spring break, ignorant of this being the last time we would be in each others’ presence for months. My professor was right after all. After returning from spring break, I was cast off. I went from the sunny beaches of Florida to a life on a screen. The second semester of my junior year was pried from my grip. I loved college. I was beside myself. All summer I worried if we would get to return to campus. The last thing I needed was to lose my last year of college.
Life improved when they allowed us to return to campus senior year. I was happy to be there. It satisfied my craving for a sliver of normalcy. Having friends a door away, hands on instruction from professors, and not living on Zoom meetings, kept me happy. It was more than enough, and life kept demanding things of me.
Being a senior in college, I needed to apply for jobs. I had an internship in college, but the department lacked a progression to become a full-time employee. I could join the company, but it meant applying and interviewing like anyone else. I began applying. Applying became a part-time job. School, work, and the gym during the day, and applying for jobs at night. It was exhausting. Retailers, investment management firms, shoe companies, and banks, you name it, and you’d probably find my resume in the stack. I applied to 34 companies.
In a few weeks, I hoped for my inbox to be flooded with interview requests. Time ticked away, and I heard nothing. Not one of the 34 companies reached out. I got the occasional automated interview, but after a few weeks, I hadn’t been interviewed by a real-life being. No emails requesting more information, nothing. It was painful. I had a 3.85 GPA, campus involvement, leadership, internships, and extracurriculars plastered all over my resume. I found solace in the pain of job searching during the pandemic being a shared experience, but it didn’t stop me from feeling the brunt of it.
It began to turn when I got my first human-to-human interview. Sweet, I thought maybe this is the first domino — get me in front of someone, and I like my chances. I was wrong. I applied to 34 places. I ended with one interview. The one interview landed me a job, but I was still irritated.
One make and 33 misses is one way to humble yourself. To compound my frustration, I began to get comparative. What do they have that I don’t? Yes, comparison is the thief of joy, but humans understand this and still can’t resist. It’s innate.
talks about in his piece “the easiest thing on my to-do list”,“Telling people to “not compare” is like preaching abstinence. Good luck with that.
Instead, we should redirect our urge to compare. Towards gratitude. When you have an annoying day or pang of jealousy compare it to a bad day. If your kid has the flu or you have some genuinely serious concern you do that god-bargaining thing — “Give me the flu, just make my kid better”, “Make me drive back and forth to the airport 50 times, just let me hear mom’s ok”. It's like as soon as the stressor passes we forgot the deal we made in the foxhole. Don't.
Right now, as you sit here with all the minor annoyances, be grateful you get to deal with them. You are here. You are some ghost’s counterfactual. Thank you for today. Say it. It's very difficult to find bitterness when you sit in gratitude. And gratitude is so easy, you just have to remember to prompt it. It’s just a practice. And like any practice it’s a choice.”
I’ve reflected on why I got one offer, one interview really, out of 34 applications. A downturn in the labor markets spurred by a pandemic? Sure. Maybe I was unrealistic in some of the places I applied? You could make a case. However, this ignores one thing.
I have a job. Maybe the world is conspiring to make me happy. Maybe I got one interview because I was meant to take this job, in this city, and be with these people. The job is one vessel of my life. If I didn’t have this job, I wouldn’t live with five friends, be within driving distance of my parents, be close to my college town for football season, have professional sports in my city, have a robust network both at work and in the city, have filled my life with great humans, etc. You get it. The list is profuse. I have much to be thankful for, and I realize everyone isn’t afforded that.
Too often, I default into the mindset of what I am missing rather than why this could be happening. Sure, I desire things I don’t have. I have things that I wish would change, but that is the details. Gratitude must be my default because if I don’t stop, try to understand why some of these things are happening, and be thankful, I might just miss the proof of how the world is conspiring to make me happy.
-Scantron
Always appreciate you for reading.