I Walked Away From My High-Paying Job And Discovered My True Self

Summary

A high-flying corporate executive, obsessed with wealth and power, undergoes a transformative journey of self-discovery, only to realize that, despite his experiences, he remains an unchanged, self-centered individual.

Abstract

The narrative recounts the transformation of a wealthy, aggressive office worker who, after losing his job during the COVID-19 pandemic, seeks self-knowledge through various expensive and extreme experiences. From indulging in luxury to partaking in spiritual retreats and arduous physical challenges, he believes he has found enlightenment. However, his journey concludes with the stark realization that, despite his efforts, he is fundamentally an egotistical person. The story satirically reflects on the pursuit of self-improvement and the challenges of truly changing one's nature.

Opinions

The protagonist initially values material wealth and status, symbolized by his expensive suit and domineering behavior.
The pandemic serves as a catalyst for his transformation, prompting a shift from a materialistic lifestyle to a search for deeper meaning.
His journey includes a mix of self-indulgent and spiritual pursuits, such as ayahuasca ceremonies, polyamorous retreats, mountain climbing, and meditation with monks.
Despite his experiences, the protagonist's entitled and condescending attitude persists, suggesting a critique of superficial approaches to self-improvement.
The story concludes with a satirical twist, implying that true self-awareness is not achieved through external experiences but through genuine introspection and humility.

The price of self-knowledge is self-knowledge

I used to work in an office making a shit-ton of money. By 5 am every day I’d have had seven cups of coffee and be on the phone or the email or the chat.

“Buy!” I‘d shout. “Sell!”

“Per my email of March 14th, motherfuckers!” I‘d type, fingertips flushed and swollen with rage.

I wore a $47,000 suit made of skin from a tiger’s testes, the softest material on earth.

I stalked the lunchroom, sneering at the office plebs with their hoagies and hot pockets as I tore into Beef Wellington smeared in foie gras while berating a subordinate via Bluetooth. ”Sffshassh! Frshhaksp!” I’d spit.

Then Covid struck and business collapsed. Suddenly I was home alone with nothing to do but read inspirational memes on Instagram. And I grew.

“Live, Laugh, Eat, Pray, Love.” I whispered gently.

I wondered if maybe money, power, and prestige were not what life is about. Maybe it was about experiences. Expensive experiences. I vowed to learn about myself.

And I did.

I drank ayahuasca with an ancient shaman in the Amazon rainforest. “Is there a bidet in my hut? How is breakfast not included?” I said. “Why are snakes coming out of your mouth?”

I attended a polyamorous retreat to deepen my relationships with myself and others, but everyone there was ugly and they wouldn’t get better looking, no matter how much I shouted.

I climbed the highest mountain on every continent. “You’re going to have to give me your oxygen, Norbu, I dropped mine in the crevasse. And I need a piggyback, my plantar fasciitis is going crazy.”

I sat in silent meditation with Buddhist monks in a Japanese forest, but only for about 15 minutes because Christ, how do you sit with your legs crossed like that all day and still have feeling in your lower body? Do I look like some kind of fucking contortionist?

And now I know. Life isn’t about where you go, or who you’re with; it’s about knowing who you are. And I’m an asshole. Namaste, motherfuckers.

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