A Message to Fellow Hard Workers

Back in mid-December last year when the Coronavirus was perhaps on the eve of ravaging the world, I stupidly broke my left eardrum due to excessive cotton-bud use. The week before was hell for me, where a series of unfortunate news fell on my ear: My dearest aunt’s passing, one of my uncle’s sudden heart attacks, and my own dad rushed to the hospital due to an “old man’s illness”. Personal life stress, dare I admit, took a toll on me, much more than work stress. That’s also perhaps when my OCD kicked in: My morning routine of ear-cleaning turned into a brutal accident that left me living a "mono" life (my left ear could only hear less than 30 percent) in a matter of two to three weeks. Certainly, that only exacerbated the stress I was carrying personally. But somehow and in some way I could never imagine, life carried on; I was okay with how things worked out. Feeling helpless appeared as a choice, not as an inevitable rock bottom, and this perspective kept me going, even until now when the world seems to shut down for a long, undesired break.

So, I asked myself, what was it that I found in times of desperation last December that now becomes the rock I am clinging to. Amid fear and uncertainties, I realized whether at work or in life in general, patience and discipline are your best-bet floating buoy to keep yourself safe from getting lost in the sea of changes. These two old virtues, against the bright, shiny, Internet-fixated world of today, are hardly spoken of with the beautiful enthusiasm of young workers. The harder truth is, these may just be all that we really need right now.

Those who know me personally would think it’s funny that I willingly wax lyrical about patience. For the most part, I find patience as a funny thing. It’s the least present when you yearn for a better understanding of it, but it is there when you are left with nothing more to figure out and all options seem to lead nowhere. One of the best pieces of advice I got when I quit my first big break was “No matter how much talent you have, if you don’t have patience, that doesn’t count.” I quietly held on to that stinging statement in my 20s despite believing that money accounted for so much more than patience. Like any struggling young workers trying to make ends meet, the idea of having to be patient in those days was almost identical to losing—to drop the ball and sit on the spectator bench. When you’re young and powerful, letting go is the hardest thing you could ever learn.

Now, I’m in my mid-thirties. Patience is the only best friend I have when things get rough. During the terrible phase last December, I read that a broken eardrum could recover on its own within a month or so. I was already hearing a non-stop ringing sound for a week and experiencing painful stings inside my ear every now and then. To look stupid in a meeting since I would be asking “what?” quite frequently was part of the deal, too. In essence, the healing process had me in complete surrender, and patience, there I learned profoundly, is not a “doing”, it is a “happening”.

Just like the world right now that’s turning into a different planet, everywhere you go is a mental test, waiting for you to break down there and then. The dead commercial sector in your city, the distanced queue at your supermarket, the essential mask, and the muffled conversation: This is the new reality. Many think this is the end of the world. Many believe that OCD is our future shared habit. I thought I might be able to say something smart about it, to seemingly cast a prediction on what’s going to happen, but no, I really don't know what could happen next. Some people are losing their jobs; some are barely surviving with severe pay cuts; some are not. Yet, I see some of the most powerful people are driven crazy by fear and uncertainties because they cannot sit still and enjoy their own company. It is the saddest thing to see someone smart and well-known for his or her work break down just because they cannot go to the office and do whatever they normally do. I mean, talent is never bound by place or location. And not everyone is meant to be participating to relieve everyone else’s pain during this time of confinement. To surrender at home, to give yourself a break from doing something, is technically part of the healing process.

The other side of the coin, tough times recall what you have invested all along. To cope with such tragic news one after another, I called a few old friends just to pour myself out. Although I hadn’t spoken to my aunt for a long time, her absence was a sharp reminder of how things have changed fast and drastically. I find friendship as the most precious investment I was using to buy myself out of that funk. That investment alone was built from sharing life’s moments—good and bad—of being together or staying connected—it took thousands of hours and disciplined consistency to cement the foundation. Oh boy, wasn’t I so grateful to find such dear friends.

The rough patch the world is facing right now is calling everyone to break open their investments. More than just about money, it is a test of personal and professional value. It’s not that the world wouldn’t have enough jobs to offer or even new jobs on the market. But the set of skills needed is changing. With that said, I now understand why some friends congratulated me when I switched my career from one industry to another. Loyalty to one industry is great but putting all of your eggs in one basket does carry its own risk. It’s also not about what you can do in terms of skills, but what you can become when you are plunged into a new planet of professions. I applaud creative minds like fashion designers who previously only did beautiful dresses now go full force in crafting masks (C. Siriano and Vera Wang among others!). The trade is the same, but the meaning of the trade has shifted drastically. It is not easy, of course. It gains less money, I’m sure. Yet a true skilled worker is hardly measured only by the result of the work. It is by discipline and consistency to produce that he or she is deemed professional.

With much more free time available now, considering the world on a break, I see an opportunity to build new investments: Learn a new set of skills, contact old friends/family/network, read or paint and completely reduce your stress. It is not about “doing” but about letting “happening” happen, and you prepare for the future. In fact, the world is becoming fully online too, hence me writing on LinkedIn again and again. So, let’s connect and reconnect. Let’s stay strong and cling on to patience and discipline to get through this. We’re in this together—this global healing process.

Get well soon, World.