We’re all born for greatness. We’re all born to be explorers, leaders and legends. We’re all born to make our mark and change the world.
We’re born to forge our own paths, find our own adventures and to make a name for ourselves. We’re born to cross oceans, build bridges and change lives. None of us were born to live in cubicles.
None of us came into the world imagining our path ending in front of a wall. None of us saw our boldest ambitions and lifelong dreams enclosed in a box, surrounded by the shrill echo of ringing phones and printing paper.
None of us dreamed of lives that consisted of doing the same thing, day after day, year after year.
The 9-to-5 was a death sentence our parents succumbed to, but not us. We wouldn’t be like them. We were born to be somebody. We were born to exceed the limits and dare to do what they couldn’t.
We were born to be extraordinary, to defy the walls and the concrete parking spaces that kept them shackled and chained from true happiness.
So what happened? When did you decide your path of greatness wasn’t worth it? When did you succumb to the same fate of your parents? When did we decide that cubicles weren’t so bad and maybe greatness could just wait until later?
You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. I know you’re better than this. This isn’t your life. Your life is about creating something real. Your life is about being spontaneous and free. Your life is supposed to be bold and grand.
You’re supposed to procure envy from your peers and gain the respect and admiration of your own parents. You’re supposed to be flying above, not trapped inside. You were born for greatness, you were born for fame. In case you forgot, here are all the reasons you weren’t born to live in a cubicle:
You never fit inside a box
Even in school, you refused to let the lines become boundaries of your artistic endeavors. You created abstract art from the coloring pages of your conformist peers.
You turned lessons into experiences and always found your own way. You were a trendsetter, a leader, a wild card. You didn’t conform to the rules then, so why now?
You can’t sit still
You’re getting up every 30 minutes for coffee breaks you don’t need and bathroom runs you’ve already taken. In high school, you vowed you’d never work for a job with chairs and now you’re glued to one.
Business clothes make you itchy
These aren’t the clothes you want to spend your hard-earned money on. You are an expressionist, an artist. You create a style that no one can replicate.
You draw envy and admiration from your unique presence. These clothes confine you more than the cement walls.
You’d rather hang yourself with a tie than put one on
Like a dog unwilling to put on a choke collar, you’ll never succumb to the tight and uncomfortable life that can’t be softened by Brooks Brothers' patterns and overpriced silk.
You're too free to ever let your neck be harnessed and pulled.
You didn’t care about the money in Monopoly any more than you do now
Your paycheck is about as comforting as that fake money in those board games you loved. They are important, but it wasn’t that green and yellow paper that made you so happy to play.
While you may have bought a few houses and saved a good pile of those $500 bills, you’re really not enjoying the game at all.
You have more fight in you than the copy machine deserves
You have too much fight in you to take it out on paper jams and office politics. You’re supposed to be leading protests and fighting for your rights. You’re supposed to be out there making a difference, not making enemies of men and women in Ann Taylor pantsuits.
You need windows
You’ve always needed windows. Large ones that reminded you of the exciting world you’re supposed to be experiencing.
Those slits out of the corner of those collapsable walls are sadder than the slits of light prisoners get. You won't take any job that doesn't offer you a view of the world.
You’re not supposed to work for the weekend
When you were a kid, you imagined every day of your grown-up life as the weekend. Finally free from the shackles of parents and teachers, you would bask in seven days of independence.
You imagined doing anything you wanted whenever you wanted. Why would you grow up only to give your power to someone else?
You have more to say than what can be conveyed at a water cooler
You have things to say. Your conversations aren’t to be limited by seconds at the company water tank. You’re supposed to be like the philosophers and literary idols you worshipped, thirsty for conversations that last well into the night.
You're too real to live through a screen
You have too much life in you to resign to the bright light of a computer monitor. You're too free to be attached to a company email and too awake to fall asleep in 8 am meetings.
Your life is about seeing things firsthand, not through office memos and travel blogs. You're supposed to be the one creating the life others read about.