Is the Grass Greener?

I have contemplated leaving the 9-5 grind for several years, or maybe since I first entered it, which is more than several years ago. I left it once for a China adventure, which is another story to tell. That was only a brief diversion though, and I eventually returned to the grind.

I fear leaving the grind because of the mantra, “the grass is always greener on the other side.” “Be careful what you wish for” is another way of putting it. Safety becomes a drug that the corporate worker becomes dependent on.

There are plenty of reasons to hate the grind and one can easily find a YouTube video that explains these reasons in good detail. It’s often soul crushing. You’re just a number. You’re a cog in the wheel. You’re exploited. Most of the relationships are shallow. They’ll replace you the second they can. Emails spur anxiety. Productivity is punished with more tasks, rather than rewarded the ability to create more. The tasks are mostly empty and meaningless. The list goes on.

So we find ourselves listless, sitting, staring at a screen, and wondering if this is really it.

And so many of us tolerate the grind because “at least we have that 401!” I’ve thought this and even said it out loud countless times. Or we stay in the grind because we’ve sunken so far in debt that we have no choice. Or because we’ve established a lifestyle that requires it. Or because we fear the removal of perks that we’ve become addicted to (it’s true, at least, that the 401k is an incredible thing).

Contemplating the risks of the present and future have often rendered me immobile for long periods of time, and I’ve been immobile on this decision for quite awhile. I imagine every possible scenario and live it in my mind. A calculated risk for me is often well calculated.

For example, let’s assume I leave the 9-5 grind with what I have now, and I have enough to coast to old age, and perhaps even to the end. What if I get a debilitating health condition in the later years and lack the funding to treat it? Funding that I would’ve had, if I stuck it out another two years in the 9-5 grind?

And yet, who’s to say just how much labor guarantees health security? The true answer, if one really thinks logically, is that insurance guarantees nothing. Society has told us that security is a purchasable commodity. It is this lie that strips us of the nearest thing to security: a healthy lifestyle.

If senility eventually overcomes me, does security even matter? If my mind is gone, my body might as well be too. And if I’m hit with a crippling physical malady? What use is a nice insurance package to life if I can’t go outside anyways?

Which of my fears are the most logical? Surely I’d at least have health insurance in old age to cover most of these morbid scenarios? But what if the cost escalates so high that I eventually cannot pay for it? And to counter this point, if I actually took care of myself, wouldn’t this be better insurance than even the best health insurance?

The greatest health insurance is a solid diet and routine movement. It doesn’t guarantee long life, but it increases the odds. A nice insurance package has significant drawbacks if one lives an unhealthy lifestyle. And the percentage of people living healthy lifestyles in the 9-5 grand is disturbingly low.

Most of my fears assume I would not make money after leaving the 9-5. I also know this to be false. Freelance work is more prevalent than ever.

So, there is an overall case for leaving. Most of my fears can be argued as illogical.

I’ve also slaved away for years already, storing as much as I can in order to no longer be dependent on long work hours. I’m approximately halfway through life, which arguably is too long to drudge away at meaningless tasks that satisfy only other people. I can see signs of this drudgery in the dark circles beneath my eyes and the overall exhaustion that often incapacitates me. I believe that broken people are chronically exhausted. The soul is mortally wounded and as a result, we drag ourselves, kicking and screaming, to perform every little task.

I seem to only recover on vacation, but the recovery doesn’t last as long these days.

I want to spend more of my life creating.

Creativity has a shelf life. We have a shelf life. The 9-5 tends to shake the hourglass violently enough that the sand falls faster. When is the right time to walk away? How much security is enough? These are questions we all must ask ourselves.

And then I ask myself again, as I imagine the glowing exit sign hanging over me as I walk out of the 9-5 grind for the last time: will the grass really be greener?