Do you have to be a martyr to be successful?

If you’re not enjoying your work, perhaps it’s time to adopt a more Buddhist mindset

Photo by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash

Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless, not my will but thine be done.
The Bible, Luke 22:42

“This world is shrouded in darkness. Here, only a few can see their way free. These few birds escape from the net and fly away to the heavens.”  
Buddha

I’m hoping you’re enjoying your Easter long weekend as you’re reading this, so I’ll endeavour to keep things short and sweet. (Well, as short and sweet as someone of my disposition can manage.)

My parents weren’t religious. Apart from taking my brother and me to Sunday School a handful of times – mainly so they could have a few hours to themselves – they never set foot in a church unless they were attending a wedding or a funeral.

But being the bookish, intellectual type, I became fascinated with the big questions of life in my late teens. Had I been born a few decades earlier, I would have undoubtedly become a Camus-quoting Existentialist. As it turned out, I got interested in Buddhism, a religion, or arguably a philosophy, that has long appealed to a certain subset of highly educated, culturally middle class, moderately Bohemian white people in Western nations such as Australia.

I’m no theologian and I suspect learned Christians and Buddhists would take issue with this analysis, but what always struck me as the fundamental difference between Buddhism and Christianity is that Jesus suffered terribly – and had no choice other than to suffer terribly – while Buddha’s life was long and mostly pleasant.

Most non-Buddhists are vaguely acquainted with Four Noble Truths and sometimes have the mistaken impression that Buddhists are just as gloomy as members of many other religions when it comes to viewing the world as a vale of tears. But this isn’t quite the case. The First Noble Truth isn’t “Life is suffering”. It’s more accurately translated as “Life is unsatisfactory”. Why is life unsatisfactory? Because everything is impermanent; because we and everybody we love will get sick, get old and die.

But the point of Buddhism – at least as far as I understand it – isn’t to sit around feeling sad about the fact you will grow sick, grow old and die. It’s to accept all those things will happen but to treasure every moment of your all-too-short life nonetheless. (Even the moments when you are sick, old or dying.)

Buddhists are against unnecessary suffering. They counsel accepting the facts of life but avoiding being weighed down by them. Indeed, the last three noble truths seek to clarify why humans suffer and how they can go about reducing that suffering.    

Buddha was never as tortured – either literally or in the colloquial sense – as Christ. Buddha was the pampered son of a king who turned his back on what we’d today label the rat race and set out on a spiritual adventure. After achieving enlightenment, he spent many years wandering around providing advice to other people who wanted to become enlightened. It wasn’t considered necessary for him to die in agony at a young age. In fact, he died relatively peacefully (reportedly there was some indigestion involved) after a good innings.

The enduring appeal of martyrdom
So, what has all this got to do with people trying to turn a dollar in 2023?

Even though they are increasingly unlikely to be believing or even cultural Christians, I suspect many Westerners remain psychologically Christian, as might be expected given how dominant Christianity has been in the West for the last two millennia. That is, at some deep, subconscious level, Westerners believe that there is something ennobling, necessary and even virtuous about suffering; that they are being a little bit Jesus-like every time they put their hand up for hardship.

Of course, ‘psychological Christians’ rarely literally get crucified – though it’s telling that some do volunteer to be nailed to a cross at this time of year – but many embrace less extreme forms of martyrdom. In a career context, that can mean anything from doing work that you find unpleasant, to allowing yourself to be demeaned by obnoxious employers or clients, to continuing to show up at a workplace that is a toxic nest of vipers.

My (quasi-Buddhist) argument isn’t that it is feasible to avoid unappealing jobs, or horrible bosses, or malicious co-workers, any more than it is feasible to avoid sickness, old age or death. My argument isn’t even that you should aim to achieve a state of Zen equanimity where those things don’t bother you anymore. My argument is that many people who have options choose to martyr themselves rather than search for more rewarding work, or a more appreciative employer, or more supportive colleagues.

You only live once
People have the right to martyr themselves and even to quietly indulge in some self-righteousness about putting their needs behind those of others.

But another powerful insight I derived from Buddhism – and from Christianity too, for that matter – is that all things pass quickly away. Even if you believe there’s some sort of afterlife, do you want to suffer any more than is strictly necessary during the time you have left in this world? Wouldn’t you rather spend your precious time doing work you find consequential, ideally for clients or employers who appreciate your efforts, and hopefully alongside people you feel respect and affection for?

At this point, dear reader, you’re no doubt coming up with a long list of reasons why taking such an approach to your career is unthinkable. I won’t argue. I’ll merely point out there are individuals who have managed to create careers that involve doing work they think is important with people they believe are admirable. So, it can’t be entirely impossible.

I’ll wrap up by noting that while Jesus wasn’t in a position to refuse his cup of suffering, you probably are. And if you do want to hurl that cup away, there’s no better time to do it than the season of death and rebirth.