If the salary was the same, what job would you be doing right now and why?
The question quietly assumes that many would walk away from their current roles the moment pay ceased to be a factor. And in truth, few are fortunate enough to make a living from their dreams. The rest often find themselves buried under quiet resentment, going through motions that pay the bills but never feed the soul.
Years ago, a friend of mine dreamed of joining the Royal Air Force as a pilot, but failed the eyesight test. Crestfallen, he moved to another city and took a job he did not care for—one that offered a handsome salary. For years, he harboured the wish of switching to a cockpit, even at a fraction of the pay. That day never came. He worked until retirement, but happiness eluded him.
Ironically, his friend—a RAF squadron commander with a fine salary—left his post for a commercial airline, lured by an even greater package. In the process, he lost the very passion that had once made him soar. A chance to fly a top-gun jet at the same pay would have been irresistible to him, but he could not have both.
Their paths were bent by forces beyond their control—a reminder that life often writes its own script. Are we then powerless to reconcile our needs with our longings?
Perhaps a shift in attitude offers a way out. By learning to reframe what we “dislike” into something we can at least “accept,” or by expanding the boundaries of what we consider meaningful, we may ease the wound. Do your job for the paycheck, but keep your dream alive as a hobby—a sanctuary for joy, not a source of regret.
I count myself among the blessed: I once earned a good salary, did meaningful work, and found fulfillment throughout my career. Some have asked why I never pursued full-time, paid ministry as a devoted Christian. My answer is simple—sharing the gospel is not the exclusive province of professional preachers. To bear witness to Christ in the everyday workplace is perhaps one of the most compelling testimonies of all. As Jesus said: “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:16)
And yet—”What is past is prologue.” If my friend could see that his yesterdays only set the stage, he might realise that his most thrilling future was always yet to come.
In deeper meditation, I wandered into this cloudland—free, unburdened, at rest. May it speak to you as well.
—
Cloudscape ~ ✨
Oh, your heart—
let it not be changed by my appearing.
Oh, your heart—
let it not be startled by my changing.
Oh, your heart—
let it not grieve at my fading away.
For I am but a mist and cloud,
appearing for a little while, and then gone.
Oh, my heart—
it is changed by your appearing.
Oh, my heart—
it is startled by your changing.
Oh, my heart—
it grieves at your fading away.
For you are but a mist and cloud,
appearing for a little while, and then gone.
And I, too, am a mist and cloud—
willing to stay by your side, drifting with the wind,
willing, before we scatter, that in our meeting,
we kindle light together.
—✨
en yan hua fang 