Ode to the Rut*

Disparagement of the rut is one of the hallmarks of modern existence. I have no doubt the idea started with the rise of modern industry, and the creation of the management world. Before that, people did what they did, whether they were farmers, cobblers or blacksmiths. While they may not have liked it much, there was a sense of acceptance that few argued against.

Once work became a 9 to 5 existence people’s view of the inevitability of their station in life changed. The job itself seemed more random, something that you fell into rather than were born to. Even if it was a job you liked, the prospect of dragging yourself to work day in and day out seemed daunting. The idea of being trapped in a fate that you chose took hold.

The term “rat race” emerged in the 1940’s and was quickly recognized as an apt description of the modern worker’s plight. We were akin to mice in a maze, wondering aimlessly for some nugget which probably wasn’t very satisfying anyway. We endured because we saw no way out. Life was passing us by, but we were powerless to hop the maze walls and search the rest of the laboratory.

Popular culture reinforced this feeling of paucity at the core of our daily routine. We marvel at the well-cultivated image of the celebrity as a free spirit who does what he or she wants when they want to do it. Part of our fascination with stardom is a wish to emulate that sense of being unbound, even if the image is far from reality.

The rise of the antihero as an icon in the 1960’s cemented this sense of the rut as the ultimate version of hell. Free spirits such as Captain America in Easy Rider or Jack Nicholson in Five Easy Pieces glorified a lifestyle that discarded any sense of structure. It is also part of the lure of superhero movies, especially when the “heroes” are outsiders such as Deadpool or Wolverine. While few would opt to be any of these characters, the allure of their “freedom” is undeniable, especially in contrast to our own seemingly constricted world.

I have bought into this anti-rut mantra as much as anyone. I love novels with unconventional protagonists such as Catch-22 or One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. I’ve sat through meetings wondering why I am wasting my time on something I ultimately didn’t care about. I have often fantasized about breaking out of the mold and living an unstructured life.

Then the last three months hit. Without going into detail, life intruded to push aside the routine that I had established over the last few years. Suddenly, my days were subject to unintended obligations (nothing bad), which left me feeling somewhat adrift and unsettled.

Truth be told, my feelings were much worse than the reality of my situation. I still had plenty of time on my hands to do what I wanted to do, but I felt like I was not in control. Things that I normally would do as a matter of course did not get done, like writing this blog. I felt that I was fighting to maintain the balance I desired.

Eventually it struck me that I owed a lot to the “rut”. What would I have accomplished if I did not have a structure that I rigorously followed? Would I have filled the unstructured time with spontaneous, creative activities, or just sat around wondering what to do next? Is the lack of a routine another way of saying aimless drifting?

I must admit that despite my imagined iconoclasm the ingrained habits worked pretty darn well. They made sure that I was not ignoring things that made my life significantly better. And not only mundane things like paying bills on time, but also activities that made my life mine. Like staying on top of the kid’s schedules, planning vacations, keeping up with my reading, seeing movies or an occasional concert.

As I look back on it now, the heart of the drudgery was not as bad as my conditioned self often thought it was. Yes, there were endless meetings, but there was also a lot of time spent plopping down in someone’s office and laughing at the inanities of corporate life. The daily train ride was usually relaxing and refreshing. There was real joy in returning home after the day was done, even if it was at the same time I had returned the day before, and the day before that.

There was also plenty of variety if I focused on that instead of the routine. Nothing was as predictable as it seemed. Maybe it was lunch with an old friend, or a quick turnaround needed on an issue that was new and challenging. It could have been the anticipation of a kids’ concert or play. The view on the ground was very different from the view at 10,000 feet.

Since retirement I have spoken glowingly of the unfettered free time, but the reality was, and is, that the need for a rut is just as strong, if not stronger. Without a sense of what to do when, the TV issues its unending siren song of intriguing ten-part miniseries that morph into seasons two, three and beyond. (What will happen to Tom Wamsgans, and is it mere coincidence that his name is so close to mine? Yes, it is). Structure provides meaning and purpose.

It is time to admit that I am no “Cool Hand” Luke Jackson, or Sal Paradise, and I would never want to be. I need to be kept on the straight and narrow. So, here’s to you rut! You have been derided and debased, and yet you hold us together. Your day has come.  

*Actually, not an ode, but no one wants me writing poetry