What My Grandpa Taught Me About Hard Work and Happiness
5 minute read / by Sam Daugherty / July 16th, 2025
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Like most people, I spent a good deal of time trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. And, like most people, that usually meant choosing a job. Like that's what life is? Work?
Even when we ask kids, “What do you want to do when you grow up?” we're really asking about careers. But is that all there is? Is that the meaning of life? Is that all we're destined to be?
My grandpa didn't think so.
Meet Clarence
To understand the lesson, you need to meet my grandpa, Clarence. He wasn't a big man, but he didn't need to be. He was kind. Quiet. Thoughtful. The kind of person who listened more than he spoke. And always had time to hear whatever story you had to tell him—something I've yet to master myself as a parent.
We didn't live nearby and couldn't visit often, but when we did, he always made it special. I still remember his dog waking me at 5:30 a.m. so I could ride with him to get coffee and donuts. He always took me—maybe because I was the youngest. Maybe because I was the favorite. Probably because I was the favorite. That makes sense.
Probably because I was the favorite. That makes sense.
It was never just a donut run though. It was an adventure in socializing. He knew everyone. He had time for everyone. He made it an experience. He didn't wake me up at 5:30 to get donuts. He woke me up so I could meet his friends and listen to their stories.
I learned a lot of lessons from my grandpa. I could write a book with everything he taught me. But this is the one I think about the most. Especially now that I spend my time helping other people so much.
Do What You Love?
Every time I browse social media, someone's telling me the secret to happiness. “Do what you love.” “Find your passion.” “Turn your hobby into your job!”
It sounds reasonable, right? You spend most of your life working—why not love it? It consumes so much of your day, it felt important to make those hours count.
Photo by Sebastiano Piazzi on Unsplash
That's what I believed when I found myself on the front porch with my grandpa, looking for clarity. Feeling stuck.
I had just been laid off from a graphic design job at Caterpillar—the same company he retired from. It had been a good job, but boring. I was working at a bike shop now, happy and enjoying it, despite being poor. But it left me wondering what came next.
Then he asked me the question.
“What do you want to do?”
“I don't know,” I said. “I liked design, but I wasn't doing anything cool. It was just typical marketing stuff. It wasn't exciting.”
He looked at me and said, “No. What do you want to do? Not where do you want to work.”
The Question
It caught me off guard. What did he mean?
He didn't elaborate. Just let the question hang in the air for a moment, sipping his soda.
No one ever told me I should love my job. You just do the work.
Finally, he said, “So what if your job was boring? You think I liked working in a factory for thirty-five years? It wasn't very much fun. No one ever told me I should love my job. You just do the work. Was it a good job? Did it pay well? Give you room to grow? Afford your hobbies?”
“Yeah,” I said. “But what's the point of life if we spend one third of it bored?”
“The point? Your work isn't what you do,” he said. “You just need it to pay you enough to do what you want—and give you the time to do it.”
He gestured to the chairs we were sitting on. The chairs he built. On the porch he built too.
“Your job isn't your life. Don't be miserable all day, but why does it have to fulfill you?”
What was this old codger talking about? Such nonsense. Or was it?
Actually... Do What You Love
It took a while to really get what he meant.
Your job is just a tool. It's there to support the life you want to build. The time, money, and opportunity it gives you; that's its value. That's how it fulfills you.
What fulfills me isn't in my Figma canvas. It's out in the world. It's hiking mountains with my kids, visiting every national park before they grow up. Building something in the garage with my wife. Giving my children the tools to chase their own curiosity and creativity.
Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash
My job? That's what funds the good stuff. And when I stopped demanding it make me feel whole, something funny happened: I actually got better at it. I appreciated it even more. I worked harder every day. That opened even more opportunities over the years.
And it let me do more of what I love. Just outside of work.
What Do You Really Want?
So maybe the influencers are half right? You should figure out what fulfills you. But maybe—just maybe—your job isn't part of that equation anymore.
The only time work should factor in is when you ask: What does my dream cost? And how much time will I need?
Then you find the job that pays for it. Learn new skills if you have to. There's nothing stopping you.
Your job is a tool. That's all. And the real challenge? Finding the right tool for the life you want.
Turning your hobbies into work often ruins them anyway. They stop being joyful. They become obligations. Then you're stuck searching for a new passion, just to make your old one feel fun again. So don't let anyone tell you to turn your hobby into your job. Fuck that noise. Trust me.
Also, a job that fulfills and sustains you financially? That's a unicorn. And too many of us waste years chasing it instead of living today. Right now. No Sunday Scaries anymore.
I know I rambled a bit. But the question still stands:
What do you want to do—outside of work?
Start there. Let your job serve that rich life, not the other way around.
I hope I see you out there.