If this isn’t turning out to be a great day, then it’s time to get to the heart of what the hell you are doing.

I’m not writing about a day where everything goes your way and nothing rotten happens because even if something rotten happens, it can still be a great day. In fact, some of the greatest days have the rottenest happenings. Great does not mean happy. Great does not mean productive or exciting or even pleasurable. Great is when you do your best to pay attention to what’s really important, and for a few moments you actually lose yourself to it. And a day when you completely lose yourself doing something you care about is a really great day.

So if it’s not already a great day, then really, what the hell are you doing? And more precisely,

Why are you doing what you are doing?

Too many people do stuff they don’t care about, and frankly, I think that stinks. Meaningless or highly-flawed products get built when the creators get wrapped up with the power of technology and forget to ask why someone might needs what they are creating. My good friend and Entrepreneur, Matthew Michels, articulates the issue well in his post The What and the Why. A fellow User Experience Designer, Etay Gafni, told me just this week about a past client who couldn’t articulate the purpose of their project:

“I was asking them the ‘Seven Whys,’ but we fell into an abyss at Why number three. That didn’t stop them from funding it. Someone has a hunch. Let’s hope it’s a good one.”

NOTE: I’m fine with hunches, but good ones are much rarer than people are willing to admit.

Charging forward (or plodding along) without clear purpose is not limited to over-funded, techno-centric businesses. Have you ever stayed in a tiresome relationship too long? Or a crappy job? Or maybe you continue to support a cause that’s lost its meaning to you. More likely, you are just confused about why you are doing what you are doing.

As a Young Artist I was very confused about why I was doing what I was doing. I’ve always considered challenging norms to be intrinsic to art, so when clients would ask me to design logos or brochures, I’d offer them images that were too cryptic or slightly illegible or even disturbing. When asked for changes, I’d mutter something about “dumbing down.” Then, at night in my painting studio, when I was making “real art,” I’d be distracted with math. How many paintings would I have to make at what price? I eventually quit because (I told myself) to make a living making art, my paintings would have to be too expensive for my friends to buy. Why was I doing it then? (It was a good question.)

My problem: I was smashing two of my roles together. When I separated the role of Breadwinner from Artist, meaning emerged. I learned how to serve my clients’ needs, which in turn made me a much better Designer, which in turn let me double my rates, which in turn let me cut my hours so I could make art again. I love to make art and couldn’t care less if I sell it. I design to make money. I make art to touch the sublime.

So,

Why are you doing what you are doing?

Ask why and don’t stop until you get to your heart. If you can’t answer with conviction, if your answer doesn’t resonate with your values, if you don’t believe in what you are doing, then, for everyone’s sake, stop doing it.

Have a great day.