There is a dog walker who visits my apartment complex every day. His name is Ravi. He shows up early, greets every dog with genuine excitement, knows them, talks to them, and plays with them. He carries a lightness that’s hard to miss. But what really stands out to me isn’t what he does. It’s how he seems. When I watch him, I see a kind of ease, a calmness, and a quiet joy that doesn’t feel forced. He doesn’t earn much. He lives a simple life. But his work doesn’t seem to drain him. It suits him.

When I see him, I feel envy. I want what he has – peace, joy, energy. I want to wake up every day with a smile on my face and not the dread I wake up with.

But what can I do? I can’t leave my well-paying work and become a dog walker (metaphorically speaking). I have bills to pay, mortgages, insurance, money to afford a certain lifestyle I am accustomed to. And when you want to grow in life, you have to make certain choices. I have made mine – traded my happiness for a house, my peace for a fancy car, my freedom for a corner office.

But at least I will be able to afford healthcare when I grow old. And at the rate I am working, I might be able to retire early, buy a villa in Spain, and enjoy the rest of my life.

But he seems content. At peace. At home in his life. I am sure he sleeps well too. Oh sleep, you elude me. If only I could make you mine. If only I could sleep in peace for a few hours at night. But this exhaustion I carry into the night doesn’t let my mind rest. I am taking pills now; I take a few before bed and sleep like a baby. When I wake up, the body recovers, but something inside still feels unresolved.

This analogy is not factually real, but every part of it is true. We do live with this internal monologue every day. We ask ourselves – why does the life I am living not fulfil me? Why does something inside me feel thinner every passing day? We try to find answers everywhere, but do we ever wonder if the answer is much closer to home than we imagine?

We spend most of our lives working – whatever our jobs are, we spend more time at our workplace than on our couch in front of a television. But we think that work is something we do to support our lives. What we miss is that work doesn’t sit outside our inner world; it shapes it. It quietly becomes one of the most defining parts of our lives.

The quality of our work lives determines how well we live. The joy or strain we carry home from work is what we carry into the night. If we collected joy, we sleep happy and vice versa.

I have learned this the hard way in my life. I chose a career that made the most money. I networked with businesses, raised venture money, built businesses, but in the end, it burnt me out. I was driving a fancy car, sunbathing on exotic holidays, and enjoying the view from my penthouse; but I was not sleeping well.

But when I finally paused, spent time in self-discovery, and built self-awareness, I realised all I wanted was to sleep well. I realised that I am a learner, a teacher, a writer, and that is what suits me. I don’t dream of a bigger car now or those exotic holidays; but I sleep well.

And I don’t feel envious of Ravi anymore. I understand him. I relate to him. I know how it feels. I know what matters.