Most of us know someone who’s at a career crossroad, whether it’s the freshly minted graduate, the neighbor who’s struggling to reinvent himself after being “downsized,” or the former retiree whose post-recession nest egg seems to have shrunk from ostrich size to that of a hummingbird.

At any age, it can be challenging to discover our individual aptitudes and abilities, much less find a career to match them.  This process certainly has been difficult for me.  Every job entails an element of drudgery and frustration; the challenge is to make it as enjoyable and meaningful as possible.

Rice paddy, northern Viet Nam

In my book Seeing More Colors:  A Guide to a Richer Life, one of the recurring themes is that we can create and shape our own realities.  Authentic power comes not from what we are doing, but how we are doing it.  Although some occupations might appear more significant than others, there are ways to make any type of work feel more meaningful.

An illustration:  Two bricklayers in fourteenth-century France were working on the side of the road.  When a traveler stopped to inquire what they were doing, one replied, “I am working with bricks.”  The other proudly stated, “I am building a cathedral!”

In addition, if we have an accurate understanding of our individual strengths and limitations, we are more likely to benefit from realistic expectations and the presence of mind to adjust when situations do not turn out as anticipated.  During my psychiatry rotation in medical school, my expectations were unrealistic.  I enjoyed interacting with patients and felt as if I truly was connecting with them.  Unfortunately, behavior patterns do not alter dramatically overnight.  Despite several therapy sessions with my patients, what I had thought were my brilliant insights did not always results in significant life changes for them.  I found myself frustrated by the lack of immediate, tangible results.  My expectations did not match reality.

Eventually, I realized that psychiatric treatment was typically a long process and that I did not have the patience to wait for the anticipated outcomes.  Consequently, I turned to orthopedic surgery, primarily because an immediate tangible result was the rule rather than the exception.  A wrist was broken and I could set it; a joint became worn out and I could replace it.  Furthermore, I could continue to utilize my interest in people and their behavior.  I became more aware of my false expectations and limitations, and was therefore able to make a better-informed career decision.

Each of us has a certain skill set.  Author Gary Zukav elaborates upon this idea in Soul Stories:  “Some people have hunches, others ideas, some hear music, others see pictures, some hear words.  You can find your way by paying attention to what is inside you.”

During my childhood years, in the afternoon after school, I would go from house to house, rouse friends, and we would play our own variations of baseball, football, and cowboys and Indians. This typically took place in our front yards and in the street. In retrospect, I am not certain how much our neighbors appreciated their favorite bushes being designated as second base or a touchdown. However, in the process, we exercised our abilities to create our own fun. We would play all afternoon, and would spontaneously be invited to dinner at which ever homes we randomly would arrive at when it became dark.

How often do you hear of adults—or even children— just dropping in on one another now?  While “being neighborly” used to mean social calls with friends, now, for many in the United States, it often means respecting their privacy and leaving them alone. 

Friends at the market, Kumasi, Ghana, from my book Seeing More Colors: A Guide to a Richer Life

A few years ago, a study comparing relative levels of satisfaction in different countries was published; both Ghana and the United States were included.  Although its per capita income is a fraction of that in the United States, Ghana was higher on the satisfaction scale.  I happened to be training a Ghanaian resident physician at the time, and I asked him for an explanation.  He responded by relating a recent phone call that he had received from a friend back home.  His friend inquired, “Is it really true that before you visit someone in the United States, you must call them first to get permission?”  When the resident answered in the affirmative, his friend replied, “You must come home immediately.  How can you live in such a place?”

The one exception to this “leave them alone” philosophy in our culture comes in a time of crisis, when, thank goodness, friends usually can be counted upon for support. 

But why do we only need to reach out in a crisis?  In my book Seeing More Colors:  A Guide to a Richer Life, I share a quote from Eli Wiesel, who write in Against Silence, “Popular belief has it that true friendship can be ascertained only in time of need.  Not so; in happiness you will recognize your true friends.  They will not be envious.  You will usually find friends to feel sorry for you but rare are those who feel happy simply because you are happy.”

Among life’s great pleasures is celebrating with friends and, when rejoicing with them, I often think of Wiesel’s words.  Remembering the positive energy that I have felt from friends on my own happy occasions, I always attempt to fully participate in the joy of their special events.  We should exercise our capacity for celebration.