The Business Straightjacket

There I was...in a sea of khaki and light blue button downs and brown Oxfords. Sure there were a few renegades--to let you know they don't play the game. Or at least pretending not to play the game, which was their way of playing the game. It may be because it's the South, but I think every geography has it. The professional wardrobe. It lets people know you're serious...but not uptight. That you fit in. At least on the clothing level.

Then I looked down at what I was dressed in. Yep. Khakis and a light blue button down and brown Oxfords.

So I left.

I stood in the sea for what seemed to be like hours, the watch told me 20 minutes. I didn't know anyone and approaching strangers just seemed out of place. After all, every guy had his safe guy. A guy he feigned interest in and was more of a security blanket than an actual friend. He knew him from some negotiation his company did with that company...each mutually using the other to assuage their uncomfortability.

Me? I stood in the uncomfortable.

I refused to look at my phone to pretend I was busy.

I was transported to the elementary school playground. Boys jockeying for power. Others nervously laughing at jokes that weren't funny. Pats on the back like the guy knew you...

But none of them did.

Ironically, the talk was talking about the Fragility of Success. Everyone knows success is a hard taskmaster and that that which we run after will never satisfy...unless it's God himself.

In many ways, while we know these things to be true, we too identify with the uniform because not fitting in is not worth the cost of discomfort. So we laugh at dumb jokes. We pat others on the back (hoping to get ours). We stand flat-footed, because moving would require too much overcoming of inertia.

I am writing this as a reminder to myself and, perhaps, to you. The uniform will constrict who you were made to be. Too much starch in the collar will choke out the meaning you are looking for. Sure, fitting in is fine. But too many people settle for fitting in without being truly accepted.

The choice has always been yours.

Conform to what others want you to be so they don't have to face their true selves? Opting for fitting in.

Or do you recognize the uniform for what it is...a way to constrict and keep you from stepping into unknown and creative and risk-taking spaces?