I don't think most people wake up hoping to find their purpose at work. Unless you're like me who used to tie my nervous system to my job. Thank goodness that phase is over (I think). I really think most people just wake up hoping today isn't the day. The day that their boss doesn't embarrasses them in front of the team. The day that the office politics somehow become their problem. The day that they're pulled into unnecessary drama. The day that they have to defend themselves instead of doing the job they were hired to do.

I don't think that's asking for much.

I am not the original creator of "peace and a paycheck" but the sentiment is so strong that I had to 2nd the notion that most people just want peace and a paycheck.

Not because people don't care about meaningful work. They do! Not because people don't want opportunities to grow. They do! But before people can worry about fulfillment, they need to know they're safe. They need to know they're respected. They need to know they can ask a question without feeling stupid, make a mistake without being publicly humiliated, and disagree without wondering if it'll cost them their career. (Managers, you have to always remember that you have a direct correlation to someone's happiness at work).

People don't just leave jobs because the work is hard.

Sometimes they leave because the work became emotionally expensive.

I've been thinking about that phrase a lot lately.

Emotionally expensive.

Because every workplace asks something of you. Your time. Your talent. Your energy. And that's expected. That's why they call it work. (That silly phrase "do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life" is pretty trash. Writing these articles is what I love, but its absolutely work).

What (most) people don't expect is to spend more energy navigating unnecessary drama than doing the job they were hired to do.

That's where peace starts disappearing.

Peace at work has very little to do with whether your job is easy. I've met teachers managing classrooms of thirty pre-K students who had peace. I've met executives responsible for hundreds of employees who had peace. I've also met people with what most would consider "easy jobs" who dreaded opening their email every morning.

Peace isn't about how much responsibility you carry.

It's about how much unnecessary weight you're forced to carry. There's a difference.

We spend a lot of time talking about burnout. Sometimes burnout comes from working hard. Sometimes it comes from working around things that never should've existed in the first place. Poor communication. Unclear expectations. Leaders who confuse fear with respect. Coworkers who create problems instead of solving them. Systems that make simple things complicated. Meetings that could've been emails.

None of those are part of the actual job.

They're distractions from it.

Something else I've noticed is that every level thinks the level above them has finally figured it out. Individual contributors think managers have more freedom. Managers think directors have more influence. Directors think executives finally have peace. Executives answer to CEOs. CEOs answer to boards. Boards answer to communities.

Everyone is carrying something.

That doesn't mean every burden is equal. Titles matter. Authority matters. The ability to make decisions matters. But stress doesn't magically disappear because someone got promoted.

It just changes shape.

That's why I don't think this conversation belongs only to leaders. It's for all of us.

Every single one of us contributes to the emotional climate of the places we work. Some people create clarity. Some create confusion. Some create trust. Some create fear. Some solve problems.

Some become one.

I've worked with leaders who walked into a room and everyone immediately relaxed. Not because they had every answer, but because people knew they would be treated with dignity. They could ask questions. They could disagree. They could admit they made a mistake without being made into one.

I've also worked with people who walked into a room and everyone's shoulders got a little tighter. Conversations changed. People became more careful. Not because the work was difficult. I used to have to tell the team, "today's gonna be a good day!" and immediately received side eyes, not because of my optimism, but they know who we were working with. They had plenty of data and probability. (Sorry if I butchered that math folks).

People will remember how it felt to work with you.

Long after they forget the meeting agenda.

Long after they forget the spreadsheet.

Long after they forget the project.

They remember whether they had to brace themselves every time your name popped up on their calendar.

So here's the question I've been asking myself.

Am I creating peace? Or am I consuming it?

When I walk into a meeting, do people breathe a little easier, or do they brace themselves?

Do I make it easier for people to tell the truth? Or harder?

Do I leave people feeling more capable? Or just more tired?

Those questions don't just belong to CEOs.

They belong to interns.

To teachers.

To parents.

To coworkers.

To friends.

To me.

Because here's the reality.

Most of us can't decide what someone else gets paid. We don't control every budget, every promotion, or every organizational decision.

But every single one of us influences someone else's peace.

Sometimes that's through the way we communicate.

Sometimes it's through the way we lead.

Sometimes it's through the way we listen.

Sometimes it's simply choosing not to make someone else's day harder than it already is.

People want a paycheck.

That's reality.

But I think they want something else just as much.

They want to leave work with enough of themselves left over for the people waiting on them at home.

They want to laugh with their kids instead of replaying a meeting in their head.

They want to have dinner without thinking about the email they should've never received.

They want to sleep through the night without dreading tomorrow morning.

They want peace.

And if we're fortunate enough to influence other people, whether that's as a coworker, a supervisor, or a CEO, maybe the question isn't just, "How do I help people perform?"

Maybe it's...

"Do people have more peace because I was here?"