The Identification Trap

Sometimes people trap themselves into unfulfilling, dead-end, or useless careers because they identify with a job title and can't imagine any other way of life. Here's one of my favorite parables, followed by my reflections:

Parable of the Stingy Artist

Gessen was an artist monk. Before he would start a drawing or painting he always insisted upon being paid in advance, and his fees were high. He was known as the "Stingy Artist."

A geisha once gave him a commission for a painting. "How much can you pay?" inquired Gessen.

"Whatever you charge," replied the girl, "but I want you to do the work in front of me."

So on a certain day Gessen was called by the geisha. She was holding a feast for her patron.

Gessen with fine brush work did the painting. When it was completed he asked the highest sum of his time.

He received his pay. Then the geisha turned to her patron, saying: "All this artist wants is money. His paintings are fine but his mind is dirty; money has caused it to become muddy. Drawn by such a filthy mind, his work is not fit to exhibit. It is just about good enough for one of my petticoats."

Removing her skirt, she then asked Gessen to do another picture on the back of her petticoat.

"How much will you pay?" asked Gessen.

"Oh, any amount," answered the girl.

Gessen named a fancy price, painted the picture in the manner requested, and went away.

It was learned later that Gessen had these reasons for desiring money:

A ravaging famine often visited his province. The rich would not help the poor, so Gessen had a secret warehouse, unknown to anyone, which he kept filled with grain, prepared for those emergencies.

From his village to the National Shrine the road was in very poor condition and many travellers suffered while traversing it. He desired to build a better road.

His teacher had passed away without realizing his wish to build a temple, and Gessen wished to complete this temple for him.

After Gessen had accomplished his three wishes he threw away his brushes and artist's materials and, retiring to the mountains, never painted again.

In my past, people who knew me were confused that I threw away a career in tech. When I tried and failed to start a bread-baking meditation retreat center, people assumed that I was passionate about bread. At this point, I haven't baked bread in years. I don't even have an oven anymore. But it's not a problem at all. If I had identified as "a baker", maybe I would feel sad about not doing the activity I built an identity around.

There were years when I didn't play any music. Now I'm playing more regularly than I ever have. But am I a "musician"? I don't think so.

After I built my tiny house, somebody saw it and said, "oh, you must be a master carpenter!". I felt dumbfounded. If someone needs me to be a Master Carpenter, I suppose I could play along.

There's wisdom in dedicating many years toward mastery of something, but mastery doesn't trump morality. I don't respect master hedge fund managers.

Personally, I think there's more benefit to being flexible, to transforming and adapting as the needs of the community (including the more-than-human community) change. It's foolish when people say something like, "the climate crisis is a big problem, but I'm a programmer, so I'm going to figure out how I can still get paid big bucks as a programmer, working on some climate solution..." If the world actually urgently needs people to fill up sand bags to brace for flooding, or people to put out wildfires, then your career identification is probably completely irrelevant.

Move with the land, respond to the cries of the world.

There are some things I can do well enough to do professionally or amateurly ("for the love of it"). I'm sure there are thousands of other things I could do but haven't tried. None of the activities are who I am, and I bristle when people try to confine me in their minds.

At the same time, I recognize that many people are stuck in these thought habits, and it's necessary to play the game in order to pay the bills. It worked for Gessen, the renowned artist. What Gessen had that I don't is clarity of purpose. If only I had three simple, beneficial projects that I could secretly dedicate my funds toward. But in this world, everything seems so complicated. Every seemingly beneficial project in one place depends on energy and resource flows that create suffering elsewhere. What is there to do before disappearing into the mountains?