Every morning when I pass by this trash truck, the driver, his crew, my kids and I wave to each other enthusiastically.
The driver has a big smile on his face, he wears an unabashedly rodeo cowboy’s hat. My heart beams for him— it tells me he takes pride in his job.
Recently I’ve been pondering a lot about quiet quitting and what it means. I’ve received loads of questions about what to do if we just don’t feel passionate about what we do anymore.
This rodeo uncle says it all for me. A part of me is reckons he may not exactly like driving a trash truck. I’m sure there’s not a lot of money or prestige in it. I’m sure the early hours and stench are a pain at times.
But he does it joyfully, wholeheartedly. He puts in his own flair and panache and is rockin’ it his way because I believe he finds meaning in it.
And that for me on some days, when I hate the politics and vexations at work, when I feel my passion has all been sucked dry, it’s the meaning behind what I do and the fun we choose to inject back in it that makes a difference.
To GRIT or QUIT,
what do you choose?