Two sentences into conversation with a person you’ve just met and almost without fail, one asks the other, “So, what do you do for a living?” A staple of  “meet and greet” conversation. A rather standard and simple question to answer unless, of course, you happen to be enduring one of life’s transitions. Oh, I’ve been there, trust me. Transition is not a foreign concept to me and I’ve certainly been through numerous transitions in life where part-time jobs working retail and waiting tables at restaurants were essential for me to survive. Both jobs are certainly respectable work, but for someone working a transitional job (a job that is a little off course from what they had planned), when those simple words are muttered in an effort to start conversation, that is the moment where you wish you could fade away. Instead, you go into this whole saga about how you used to work at this company, and now you’re applying for jobs at that company and in the meantime you are just doing this job to pay the bills. Frantically, you make an attempt to redirect conversation and escape discussion about this little transition period of life. Because we aren’t where we intended to be, we might be a little embarrassed or feel a little unaccomplished.

Our true person is not defined by our job. Sure, the work we do is a contributing factor to the kind of person we become. More importantly, the way in which we do our work, shapes the person that we become; however, our job DOES NOT define who we are. Working in the entertainment industry, I often struggle with this. So often, I fall into the trap of being too proud of the fact that I do work in the music industry, as if it gives me some sort of validation as a person. I repeat (partially because of the importance of the statement and partially because I need to constantly remind myself), our true person is not defined by our job.

My dad is a farmer and has also been working at the same bank for 39 years. He is the hardest working man that I know. When asked by a co-worker at my new job this year what my dad does for a living, I realized for the first time that I really didn’t know exactly what he does at the bank where he works, nor did I have a clue as to what his current title might be. Initially, I was rather embarrassed and kind of frustrated with myself for not knowing. How could I not know something so basic about my own father? Why didn’t I know this information and furthermore, why didn’t I even realize that I didn’t know? Today, it hit me and I was no longer embarrassed. My dad doesn’t talk a lot to me about his job, or his title or the specific things he does in his job – not because I don’t care to hear that from him, but because it doesn’t define who he is and it also does not define the relationship we have. His title and his place of work are not who he is. How he does his work, his motivations for working, the way he treats people at work are things that define him.

Reflecting back on the last five and a half years of my post-college professional career, I now realize how much emphasis I have placed on my own personal career. So often in those phone calls home to my family (they all live 400 miles away from me) in the past years , I’ve chosen to force my job to the center of conversation. Sure, it’s healthy to discuss some things about work with those close to you, but I have allowed my work to define me as a person. I have spent so much time being all-consumed by my career that I have neglected the most important things in life, the people I love. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in hard-work and nurturing a good work ethic, but I had become all-consumed.

What is defining you?

PS – For the record, I have since asked my Dad what his title and actual job is, and it’s good to finally know (especially considering he is nearing retirement). He’s sacrificed much for my family over the years and I love him more than he’ll ever know for just being the person that he is.