By Guest Blogger Vivian Lam 

Some days, I wake up to discover myself transfigured into an automaton with human skin wrapped around preprogrammed circuits that drive my feet forward on a calculated path. I avoid the puddles on the sidewalk, and go through the motions efficiently—command A leads to command B—in a daily grind that ends with my falling in bed and lying there for two to seven hours, to begin similarly the next day. This works fine, for every string of commands leads to a tangible reward: an A+ is added to my tabulated measure of proper functioning, a round piece of metal or embroidered sheet of paper is pinned to my stainless steel chest, the stamp of approval from my peers, teachers, family, community, society.

But some days, I wake up as a hungry and tired human being, rather than a polished robot that can be fed an end goal and accomplish it without some form of personal effort. And, some of those days, I cannot muster any personal effort from the supposedly endless amount of motivation that got me here. I don’t have any interest, don’t feel like I’m learning anything meaningful, and I don’t feel like whatever end I’m using these means for is as worthwhile as I thought it once was. Should there even be an end? That’s when I feel like throwing my robotic self into that puddle on the sidewalk to feel a bit more electrified (pun kind of intended). But even bringing myself to do that is hard enough.

Many of us may find ourselves at a point where what we are doing no longer makes any real sense or meaning—when simply working for a letter grade or praise cannot balance the investment and effort required—and we are left unable to fully engage in those routines and goals that once were compelling enough to devote our far too limited time to. When this happens, here is what you can do.

All you need is a piece of paper and a pencil.

Divide this paper into three columns—label them “What I am doing,” “What I have to do,” and “What I want to do.” In your last column, list out your most lofty and grand life plans—if they don’t exist, put down some vaguely abstract life affirming goals that could allow you to look back on your life at a ripe old age with a faint smile. In your second column, list out what you think might be the steps you need to take in order to get to reach those goals. In the first column, list what you are doing right now—be them classes, activities, relationships or otherwise. Then ask yourself—do these columns align themselves neatly? Did you consciously make them align neatly? Are you happy with where you are now, relative to what you want to do? Does what you have to do daunt you?

Since we were very little, we were told to do what makes us happy, what makes us feel most alive. In an ideal world, rather than chugging along as a preprogrammed pile of gears, we would all be able to be driven exclusively by the sheer pleasure we derive from our work. In our world, all we can do is try to come as close as possible to finding that intrinsic motivation that naturally align our to-do lists with our hopes.

Nobody can be an automaton, but as human beings who seek a meaningful coherence in our lives, we need to make our waking hours worthwhile.

We believe in you. And we hope you believe in yourself.

*activity adapted from Melissa Stevenson