Eat Like A Horse

I saw a commercial on television last night that showed one young, vibrant, beautiful person after another enjoying mouthfuls of McDonald’s fare. Clearly, the ad campaign intended to make me crave a Big Mac. But those ad-meisters had nothing on a horse I know.

I met M. (the equine pictured) this fall. He stood on the far side of a paddock until he noticed carrots and apples in my hand. He raced to my side for his share, skipping all pleasantries of introductions. I caved to his brashness and he nearly inhaled the treats.

As his person led him to the barn, I followed. We were almost there when M. suddenly detoured toward a pear tree and claimed his space beneath it.

M.’s person tried to steer him back to the barn, but he wouldn’t budge. He wanted a pear and surveyed the ground for possibilities. As luck would have it, a young rider (who had probably witnessed this scene before) came by and offered the core of the pear she’d just eaten. And then a marvelous bit of theatre unfolded for anyone willing to watch.

M. transformed that fruit scrap into his entire world. All else faded from view as he chomped and chewed and squeezed and sucked and savored that castoff pear as if it were his last meal. As if it were a last meal prepared by restaurateur Paul Kahan and drizzled with rare truffle oil.

M. took care and time to process that small bit of pear, making sure to introduce each individual fiber of it to each of his tastebuds. When some juice escaped his lips, M. tried to catch it with a turn of his muzzle.

Had anyone offered me a pear core at that moment, I would have readily accepted it and tried to re-create M.’s gastronomic passion.

As for that Big Mac I mentioned? Like the actors of the commercial, you’d have to pay me to take a bite.

The Jobhunter's Dilemma: Passion vs. Pragmatism

"Follow your passion."

This is the siren song of career coaches, career authors, and even my state's unemployment office. Everybody wants me to choose work that makes me happy, work that fulfills my aspirations.

The first step, they say, is to examine the characteristics inherent in certain types of jobs and determine how comfortable/content/enthused you would be about those traits. For instance, do you seek recognition for your work?

To this end, my state government encourages displaced workers to answer lists of questions in an effort to match passion with skills, and then directs the unemployed toward the appropriate career path.

Eager to follow my bliss, I answered all the questions and waited for my results.

"ACTOR/ENTERTAINER"

What?!? Heck, back in the Dark Ages when I was fresh from college, I knew the unemployment rate for actors: 95% unemployed. (I can't imagine what it is now.) And though my father didn't know this exact statistic, he had a hunch that the footlights wouldn't put food on my table and persuaded me to get a degree in something outside the performing arts.

And now here's the unemployment office—which, in the best interest of taxpayers, prefers to shoo people off the dole sooner rather than later—pushing me toward a potential life of poverty.

What's more, my skills don't necessarily prepare me to compete in the arenas that I would find fulfilling (in addition to the performing arts: animal welfare, museum studies, anthropology, archaeology, the fine arts). Following my bliss could mean queuing up at the food pantry. And I would guess that I'm not alone in this.

Still, it's worthwhile to at least consider the spectrum of career choices—from pragmatism to passion—so we can gauge what we're willing and able to sacrifice.

I've spent a number of months trying to find a job that lies on the outskirts of my passions yet requires the very skill sets I already have.

Nada.

Now I'm headed for the other end of the spectrum. So long, Sarah Bernhardt.