The other week, @fieryfootprints said something interesting in a comment on a post of mine, likening Hive to a job. It got me thinking, certainly, about my own relationship with Hive, and more so, about our understanding of work more broadly.

I struggle to explain to people what it is I do on Hive. It's not clear to me if my definition of work is in the same category as theirs. Often, I'll be talking to somebody and they'll complain about their job for 10 minutes, then say, anyway what have you been up to? Oh, you know, working. And they'll say oh yeah, what?

Cue my own complaining, ranting, desolate staring into space. Except I can't bring myself to do any of that. I'm living, it seems to me, this sort of miraculous, extremely lucky existence where my work is largely self-directed and chosen, not to mention is something I adore doing. I overwork myself continuously, for sure, and I do complain about that sometimes. Arguments with the boss, eh. But I don't really define it in the shallow, antagonistic way most people do their job.

Is Hive a job?

Yes and no, for me. Yes in the sense that it's something I take seriously, do consistently (lately) and consider money-making. Thankfully (or perhaps not) I have no head for money, so it keeps me from angling towards big rewards or trying to craft posts in a way that would get rewards. I don't think that works, and I've seven and a half years on here to back me on that. I think there's some people who make connections, but that's not something I'm good at, either. So while Hive is something serious and perhaps economically advantageous, it couldn't be my job to save my life.

At least not in the way we're used to define and understand "work".

Because what is work?
Work is something we often dislike or despise.
Work is a place where we're forced to interact with morons and sycophants.
Work is something that takes us away from things we'd rather be doing.
Work is something to dread come Monday.

For me, Hive is none of those things. I neither despise nor hate writing here. I look forward to it perhaps too much, perhaps overbearingly. It's a place for the constant whirl of thoughts inside my head, and that's fortunate, really, because otherwise I'd start feeling a little hopeless, maybe. A little like I was going crazy. It's a place where I generally interact with people who are fun and exciting. It's something I look forward to doing, as I said. Often, other things take me away from writing on Hive (which I'd rather), but never the other way around, since it's self-paced and self-led. I never dread Mondays, I love all my days equally because Hive lets me chill in the middle of a Wednesday and not get anxious.

Is this a love letter to Hive? Not particularly. Or to my life? Not especially that, either. Rather, it's a meditation on the way we define work. I think of so many young people that I know who are still forced into the "work force", indoctrinated that they'll simply have to put up with jobs they loathe until retirement because that's what grown-ups do. And I think to myself, do these antiquated, outdated mentalities really exist in the same world where a job like Hive is possible?

Apparently. It's shocking to me how many people get told about Hive and yet disregard and dismiss it out of hand. It's a place where you can post about anything and make money and meet people - what could be better than that? They don't trust it. Think it's a scam. I say sure, but how can it be a scam if you're not asked to put up any money? What's there to lose?

Nothing. But it doesn't fit in with their idea of what makes money, of what a job should be. A job's supposed to suck. Which is why I get a little uncomfortable when people ask me about my "job" because mine really don't so far. I suppose I'm lucky. I suppose they haven't caught me yet with their bullshit grown-up mentality, eh. Maybe someday.

It's worth noting, though, that I think this is why sometimes you'll get people who try to apply the hustle and dilligence mentalities from their experience in the work force to Hive... and fail inevitably. They haven't yet wrapped their heads around the fact that Hive is its own thing. Has its own ecosystem. That it doesn't work the way the jobs you hate do, so it stands to reason you couldn't apply the same logic by which you might've succeeded there.

Is that saying I know how to be successful on Hive? Not in the slightest. I'd probably be rich by now if I did. But I wouldn't really wish it otherwise. As I said, I'm quite content with the way my life has played out thus far, particularly in regards to work. What's greater wealth than that?