Six days ago while on vacation, my 2-year-old daughter Grace woke me and my wife up at 5:30 a.m. with a repititive shout of three words from the guest bedroom: "Mama... Dada... WAWA!". Wawa means water, and Grace was practically climbing out of her Pack 'n Play in anticipation of seeing the morning waves crash along Florida's 30A coast. She's always had a strong affinity for water – the bath tub, swimming pools, sprinklers, the ocean, a puddle of mud – and we try to oblige whenever she spots the abundant resource with those eagle-sharp eyes. It was the main reason we deciced to make our first 2021 vacation a beach-themed one.
After a quick breakfast, Grace's demands to see the ocean continued to escalate, so I quickly packed a bag and headed out the door with her, not even bothering to explain how the dark clouds and cold wind might dampen her expectations. Anne (my wife) would catch up in a few minutes after she took our Pug Izzie out for a quick pee break, so this was a daddy/daughter outing for first contact with the water. Within five minutes, we were on the beachfront sand; Grace's gaze remained intensely locked on the waves for every step of the remaining walk. When we finally reached the edge of the tide, I lowered her down and let her toes grip the wet sand in anticipation for the next wave. Those following seconds were serene: the sun had barely crested over the horizon, the wind was crisp and salty, and the beach was tranquil with almost nobody but us within view. Finally, the nearby crest broke and the cold water quickly submerged our ankles.
In that very moment, Grace tightened her grip on my index finger and let out a shriek of terror.
My parental instincts kicked in, and I immediatley dropped to her eye-level to soothe her fear and offer to go back to the dry sand. I felt bad that her excitement to see the ocean immediately turned to panic, so I was ready to distract her until Anne arrived and would then slowly work on subduing this new fear of the ocean. But that's when I realized I was wrong about what was happening: Grace wasn't terrified, she was elated. The shriek of terror was in fact a scream of excitement, and she was now bracing in anticipation for the next cold wave to make it's way towards her. The look of joy on her face confirmed there was nothing on this planet that would make her happier in that exact moment.
When I take a vacation, I try my best to disconnect from work, but ironically in that moment of Grace's embrace of the ocean, I thought to myself: I want any job I have and any work I do to bring me the same level of excitement that Grace has right now. I realize work is primarly for a paycheck and rarely reaches this level of satisfaction, but to strive for this positive feeling should a meaningful endeavor. I want to wake up each morning and look forward to the work I'm about to do, and while I certainly wouldn't shriek in excitement from writing my first line of code for the day, the general sense of joy is worth the pursuit. Luckly, I have that feeling in my current job on most days, and checking that emotional pulse on a regular basis will be a healthy habit to maintain.
If you find yourself wondering if your current job is the right fit for you, ask yourself: Am I excited about work each morning, or am I dreading it? If the latter, then it might be time to start looking for other opportunities. Find that ocean wave that will put a smile on your face.
