Loving What We Do (Even When We Don’t Like It)

Details have been changed to protect identity.

A friend—let’s call him Tim—has spent his entire adult life in the corporate world. Decades of early mornings, meetings, deadlines, reviews. From the outside, it looked stable, even successful. From the inside, it felt like living under a constant threat.

For as long as he can remember, Tim has lived with the fear of being fired for underperforming. That fear never sharpened him into a better employee or teammate. Instead, it paralyzed him. Afraid to stand out. Afraid to take risks. Afraid to be seen too clearly at all. His energy went not into contribution, but into survival.

And yet—he never quit.

Not once did he walk away. He hung on for dear life, clinging to the job because it paid the bills, because it was the source of income, because losing it felt unthinkable.

Over the years, the reasons multiplied. First, it was for the kids—to put them through college. Then it was to build a nest egg. Then a larger nest egg, this time for the children. Then a vacation home. Then the idea of security itself, abstract and ever-expanding.

Each new reason made leaving feel even more impossible.

All the while, Tim was miserable. He spoke often about how trapped he felt—how he couldn’t quit, but also couldn’t bring himself to excel. It was as if he were suspended between two cliffs, exhausted from the effort of not falling, yet unwilling to choose either side.

This is precisely the kind of situation that self-inquiry can help us navigate.

If you’ve ever experienced something similar to Tim, read on and place yourself in the story.

What if the suffering wasn’t coming from the job itself, but from the story being told about it?

What if, instead of saying “I can’t quit”, the narrative shifted to “I don’t want to quit”?

Not because the job is joyful. Not because it’s fulfilling. But because, in reality, he has chosen—again and again—to stay. To prioritize income. To prioritize stability. To prioritize the version of safety that this job represents.

Through the process of self-inquiry, we’re invited to see things as they are, not as we wish they were.

Reality over preference.

Truth over fantasy.

When we resist what is, suffering grows.

When we align with what is, something softens.

If Tim could acknowledge that he doesn’t actually want to quit—at least not yet—could the inner battle ease? Could the energy spent on fear be reclaimed for presence? Could honesty bring a strange kind of peace?

Doing what we love isn’t always about passion or pleasure. Sometimes, it’s simply about recognizing what we are already devoted to. We do what we love, no matter whether we like it or not.

Freedom doesn’t begin with changing our circumstances, but with telling the truth about the choices we are already making.

At Circle Yoga Shala, this is the practice: meeting ourselves where we are, without judgment. Breathing into the shape of our real lives. And discovering that clarity—however uncomfortable—can be a powerful form of liberation.