There was a season of life when I was taking leaders on backpacking trips several times a year. These were 5 to 7 day, leave no trace, pack in pack out, physically demanding and emotionally challenging experiences. There was no cell phone reception, and when the shuttle driver pulled away, you’d better have everything you needed or hope one of your trail mates brought extra.
Of the couple of hundred people who experienced this with me, they often sorted themselves into two groups within the first few miles: survivors or conquerors.
On my first trip, I clearly fell into the survivor camp. I had never done anything like this, and all I could think of was getting to the van 50 plus miles and six days ahead of me. I was obsessed with survival questions. Did I bring enough food? Had I trained enough? Will I get swept away in a flash flood? Will we be able to find the natural springs along the way to stave off dehydration?
But I’ve walked with others who were determined to conquer the trail. Brimming with pride, confident of their prowess, secure in their preparation, and sure of their skills to go further and faster than the rest of us.
As a guide, my prayer was that somewhere along the trail, each hiker would grasp that our time together is not a death march to endure or a competition to win.
I’ve noticed that our approach to work can be very similar to the hikers I describe above. The bulk of the people I talk to about work have sorted themselves into the same two groups: survivors or conquerors. Work is either something we get through or it is another space for us to dominate.
Our language often exposes which perspective we lean toward. “So, how’s work?” we’re asked.
While I’m certain I’ve used all those phrases at some point in my career, our prayer at Workmatters is that you will find a third way to walk the trail of work. It is the way of the contemplative practitioner. It is a way of paying attention to what is happening in you and around you.
If we can resist the urge to survive or conquer and instead learn the practice of paying attention, work will become a rich environment for God’s sanctifying work in us. Work (like a challenging backpacking route) can be the laboratory for our inner work. God will stir our hearts with wonder, gratitude, and passion. And He will expose our idols, illuminate our half-stories, and shape us into His image.
The trouble is, paying attention is extremely challenging. Learning to listen to the Holy Spirit amid the thorns and thistles of work is difficult, but it is the key to abiding in Christ rather than settling for survival or conquest.
Here’s something to try this week: