What Are You Doing For a Living?

I Don’t Know… But It Wasn’t AI, LOL.

It struck me this morning, lying in bed listening to the sound of rain tapping the roof, cars hissing by on wet pavement, and a garbage truck clanging as it tipped a bin across the alley.

That metallic slam jolted me. Not because it was loud, but because it reminded me, uncomfortably, of what I’m doing for a living.

And that phrase stuck with me like gum on a shoe.

What do I do for a living?

What does that even mean anymore?

Sure, I earn money. I have offers. I serve people. I coach. I help. I write. But is that really what I’m doing for a living?

Is that living?

Because if we’re honest, for most of us, “what we do for a living” just means: how do I earn enough money to not drown? How do I keep the roof over my head, keep the phone on, keep the people I care about fed and functioning?

It doesn’t necessarily mean: how do I come alive?

The Filter Over Everything

After I heard that bin crash, I opened my phone. Bad idea.

I started scrolling through the usual digital river of emails, ads, pings, and posts. The same people inviting me to yet another “free” webinar. Another promise to “finally make money online” if I just followed a 3-step framework, or tried this new secret productivity hack.

You know what I’m talking about.

But something in me broke open a bit this morning. Like a quiet voice cutting through the noise, asking:

When did life become this?

Layer upon layer of strategies, funnels, AI-generated tips, and empty engagement hacks, stacked so high we can’t even see the ground we’re standing on anymore.

When did everything become a filter?

I don’t just mean the photo kind. I mean the symbolic kind.

It’s like we’ve built a second world on top of the real one. A hyper-optimized version. Glossier, louder, more clickable.

Instead of trees, we see thumbnails.

Instead of people, we see profile pics.

Instead of our inner voice, we hear the next voice note, the next expert, the next ad.

And the terrifying thing is, we don’t even question it anymore.

The Simulation We’re Choosing

We used to look out the window to see what was happening in the world.

Now we look at a screen.

But the screen doesn’t show us what is, it shows us what the algorithm wants us to see.

A war in another country. A disaster in another city. A trend going viral. A tragedy you should donate to. An opportunity you’re missing. A 7-second dance clip. A meme mocking the last meme.

And deep down, we start to wonder:

Is any of this even real?

Is that war actually happening, or was that footage generated by AI?

Is that person’s success story true, or are they just selling another funnel?

Did that influencer actually live that experience, or did ChatGPT write the caption?

We are now in a world where doubt itself is the norm. Where every post, every image, every news headline, every testimonial might just be a really good deepfake.

And we’ve become numb to it.

We’re living in a simulation, one we choose to believe is real, because deep down we know it isn’t.

Not fully.

And it’s easier to go along with it than to stop, unplug, and face the quiet.

Because the quiet might ask us the real question:

Are you truly living, or just performing a version of life for the screen?

Where Did Reality Go?

I remember when conversations used to happen in person. When eye contact meant something. When being bored meant you looked around and noticed the color of the sky or the sound of your own thoughts.

Now, even boredom has been monetized. It has its own apps. Infinite content to consume. Infinite simulations to escape into.

Reality has become… negotiable.

You can curate your own. Choose your filters. Pick your beliefs. Block what you don’t want to see. Click “not interested.” Watch another version. Believe a different timeline.

And the question becomes: which version of unreality are you subscribing to today?

Because somewhere in all of this, the real got lost.

Not just the world outside, but the world inside.

The part of you that knew how to feel before it was trying to monetize every emotion.

The part of you that could just be without needing to prove anything, or document it, or explain it in a thread with a CTA.

But There’s a Crack in the Illusion…

And maybe that’s the point.

Maybe this blog, this moment, this reflection, is that crack.

Maybe you’ve had a few yourself lately.

That sudden question in the middle of a meeting: Why am I even doing this?

That ache when you scroll past yet another person who seems to have “figured it out,” and realize: I’m still not fulfilled.

That guilt when you spend hours optimizing your online presence… but haven’t seen a friend in weeks.

That moment you step outside, hear a bird, or smell the air after it rains… and it feels more real than anything you’ve done all day.

That’s the crack.

That’s the place where life is trying to get in again.

Because here’s the truth:

You are not a content machine.

You are not a product.

You are not your LinkedIn bio or your client list or your email open rate.

You are a living, breathing soul in a body, on a planet that is trying, desperately, to remind you it’s still here.

So… What Are You Doing for a Living?

Maybe this isn’t a question we need to answer.

Maybe it’s a question we need to feel.

Because the word “living” was never supposed to be about just survival or income.

It was meant to mean presence. Wonder. Aliveness.

But when we forget that, we start to trade our vitality for validation. We perform instead of participate.

We sell instead of serve.

We scroll instead of feel.

And we slowly forget that our life is not a brand, it’s a miracle.

Every breath. Every moment. Every messy, chaotic, uncertain now.

So Let’s Try This…

Let this be your reminder.

Not from an AI. Not from a funnel. Not from a script or a short-form video with a hook in the first three seconds.

From one human to another:

Pause.

Breathe.

Look away from the screen.

Listen to the rain, the birds, the hum of the world when you’re not trying to fix or filter it.

Remember what’s real.

Touch it. Taste it. Cry with it. Laugh with it. Make love with it. Sit quietly beside it.

Because that’s what we’re doing for a living.

Everything else is just noise.