I saw my first dead body when I was four.

I grew up in the small suburb of Silverton, Cincinnati. My family has lived there for almost 150 years. In the early 50’s, my grandfather and his brothers started one of the first black owned funeral businesses that could service the whole tri-state area. It was truly a family business. My grandfather, uncles, aunts, cousins, and even dad were all funeral directors.

I joked with my partner over dinner the other night that I lived in one of a few households where it was acceptable for my dad to answer the house phone in the middle of the night and whisper “okay, so who is taking care of the body?” It was a 24-hour business.

This is where my relationship with work began. I loved going to the funeral home. It never felt morbid or scary, but like a family reunion. For my family it was work, and hard work at that, but it was also a place where I could go after school and help my grandpa file his paperwork. It was where I could help my dad set up chairs in a chapel for a funeral. It was where I could take an occasional call or two. It was where I felt at home.

The thing about family businesses is that no matter what, it’s an all hands on deck affair, whether you work there or not. I can recall my mother, helping with administrative tasks. I recall my grandmother,  taking calls. As a child, I did whatever I was allowed to do. Everybody helped. It was  just what you did.

At a young age I started to discover what I liked about work. I liked to accomplish things. When I accomplished things, it made me feel more a part of the family. It made me feel like I was doing the right thing, and headed in the right direction. I felt valuable. I was never passionate about the task, yet always passionate about the feeling of accomplishment.

As I grew older, I kept looking for those feelings of value, or purpose, and of accomplishing everything I did. To my dad or grandfather, their passion in the funeral business was helping families find closure and peace in the lowest moments; when confronted with death. I never felt connected to that. I wanted to be like them because they “accomplished” things, not what they accomplished.

I chose not to go to mortuary school and be a funeral director, but opted for college and playing lacrosse and chasing a business degree. I began to find my own work here. I began in a restaurant. I started off serving, and then eventually became a manager. I accomplished something! I went and got certified in IT and project management, and then started working at one the best startups in Indianapolis. I felt accomplished! I started working as a support engineer and became a PM team lead at one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world. I felt accomplished!

In spite of all these accomplishments, I wasn’t passionate about any of the work I was doing. I found my purpose in doing a good job with whatever task was put in front of me, and doing it at a high level. I think we’ve all heard the saying “Do what you love and you’ll never work another day in your life”. I’ve never “loved” any work I've done before. It felt impossible.

I loved to say I accomplished things, and that I loved to be able to acquire things to represent my accomplishments. A sports car, a cool apartment, cool clothes, etc. All that to feel like an outsider when talking to people who were passionate about their careers. Swirling feelings of vanity and selfishness would loom as to why I couldn’t be passionate about helping people like my mom or dad did, and make a career out of it. I felt I could never accomplish that.

Now I write from the perspective of someone who works for a company whose focus is developing passionate, resilient, and aware humans and organizations. I joined a team of people who were exactly who I wasn’t, but everything I wanted to be. They had meaning and purpose encapsulated in everything they did. They had what I ultimately wanted to accomplish, real passion.

I put my head down and began listening to myself, and to those around me. I began attending the retreats and programs, becoming inundated with the work, and asking more questions. At first I struggled with simple tasks like being authentic with my team members, and letting my guard down. I overcompensated by trying to be some fake deep dalai lama character. I was trying too hard. Then I finally came to the realization that I didn’t have to conform, or pander to fit in to be successful. I had to look within and see that all I ever wanted was to accomplish tasks with people who felt like my family. There was my true passion, helping people feel what I felt like as a kid. Helping people laugh, succeed, and go to battle with people that they care for and that care for them. Once I realized this could be done without dead bodies, I knew I was in the right place.