The money would run out in 8 weeks. Guaranteed.
I was 23 years old and had moved into an apartment with three other guys to share expenses. They were employed; I was not.
A diminishing sum in my checking account assured I could pay my share of the rent and groceries, put gas in my Chevy Vega, and almost nothing else. At that rate, the account would be belly-up in less than two months.
I needed money coming in. Badly.
It was a pre-internet environment in a big city. Job searching was done through the local newspaper. None of the guys in the apartment took the paper, so I was consigned to dropping two precious quarters into the kiosk at the clubhouse every morning to get the help wanted ads.
The search was on
In the next two weeks of a 1970s summer, I poured over the ads like they were holy scripture holding my future obscurely in 10-point font. By 9 AM each morning I was out the door, having plotted my assault on area businesses who claimed they were accepting applications.
A Kansas City map was folded and re-folded, marked with a highlighter, jammed into the visor over the windshield. The KC metro area straddles the border between Missouri and Kansas. I memorized major streets and pushed the aluminum-block 4-banger engine to its limit.
Stress and uncertainty were constant companions.
I could always have gone home to the farm, and I knew that. Only the certainty of humiliation held me back.
This was good! Or was it?
At length, a ray of light and a promise of hope. I was hired into an outside sales position at a small company, calling on commercial enterprises to sell industrial maintenance materials: Roof tar and asphalt patch.
The job was unimaginably bad. A small bullpen office with four sales reps at tiny desks. Each of us had a wireline telephone and a Yellow Pages, our prospect list. Zero training, zero privacy, zero encouragement.
I took to the streets again in my Vega, cold-calling uninterested customers to display uninteresting products. The pay was $.25 over minimum wage, but at least I was reimbursed for payphone calls I had to make.
One of the other reps told me the hack for extra pay: Make your phone calls from the Kansas side where a local payphone call was 10 cents. Falsify your expense report to claim you had made the call from the Missouri side where they cost 20 cents. If you make 15 phone calls a day, that’s an extra buck-fifty reimbursement. Which meant 30 bucks a month, free cash.
Wow.
I rejected his advice, on grounds of self-respect.
The stress has only just begun
In between discouraging and inconclusive cold calls, I continued to chase other job offers. At length I accepted one, tripling my pay and finally adding breathing room.
After 3 months of training I was turned loose in the new sales job.
The stress of the new position was off the chart and suddenly made the boredom and insignificance of the old job seem attractive. It took a few months to recognize that the stress was here to stay. Once I came to grips with that, I settled into a new normal.
There was a promotion to a management job, supervising people I did not know, who were doing work I did not recognize, for clients I did not understand. I muddled through.
Another promotion. The learning curve was steeper than the last. Frustration in the day, sleeplessness at night. The money was much better, and would get better still, but with a constant bit of anxiety, like a low-grade fever.
A slow realization came over me: There will ALWAYS be stress. If there is no stress, there is no forward movement. If there is no forward movement, there is no profit.
So, if that is to be the case, then lean into it.
Embrace the lifestyle
I began to look forward to the next problem that had no solution. I commiserated with co-workers; we recognized the common experiences; we told stories and laughed. We developed solid friendships and reliable networks.
Stress became a fact of life: At work, at home. In business relationships; on vacations; raising a family; in school, in sports and at church.
Nothing good happens without stress. It is part of the human condition.
Consider the downside:
Without physical stress, there is no fitness.
Without mental stress, there is no problem-solving.
Without economic stress, there is no wealth-building.
Without spiritual stress, there is no acknowledgment of my true condition in the presence of God.
I love stress. I thrive on it. I look forward to the next insurmountable problem.
I love what the Apostle said about his own stress level:
24Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. 25Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. 26Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. 27No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize. 1 Corinthians 9:24-27 NIV
An effective, focused life is a disciplined life. This is as true for the pre-teen as it is for the octogenarian.
Stay focused! Embrace the stress! Live it out!
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The Dark Side of Stress-Free Living