I was sitting on the top floor of the Starbucks in Fairfield, Connecticut contemplating what makes life magical. Later that morning, I had a psychology/coaching session with a man in his early forties who used to be an investment banker. Several years ago, he went through a brutal depression and quit his job. In his twenties, he liked many aspects of being a banker; the technology research, the challenge of landing new clients, and the intensity of creating and delivering pitches. However, over time, he began to hate the long hours, endless travel, and the “jerks” that he interacted with on a daily basis.
After years of non-stop travel, hundred-hour work-weeks, mental and physical exhaustion, he finally sat down with his boss to ask for more flexibility and less travel. His boss told him that his two young children wouldn’t know what they were missing. This conversation turned out to be the last straw. At 35, John had finally had enough and walked away. He went out on his own and after two years of hard work, his new startup failed. More depression followed. John turned to psychiatry, only to find himself in the endless abyss of psychotropic medication.