Zia Hassan

His Cubicle

When my son was 5 months old, we unboxed a walker that someone had gifted us. We’d put his little legs through the holes in the walker and then he could stand up right. At the level of his hands were a whole bunch of wheels and knobs that made interesting noises when he twisted and pressed and pulled.

We’d put him in this walker soon after he woke up each day. It’d be his play place while we’d get ready for work, and since he couldn’t really move his feet at the time, it was a perfect way to contain him.

We’d put him in there, and almost immediately he’d furrow his brow and get a curious look on his face, and begin twisting and turning. Watching him do this, my wife and I said it’s almost like he’s at his job. So intent, so passionate, doing his best to get the job done right.

Not everyone has this type of outlook on their work. In fact, the idea of a cubicle doesn’t make me think of passion and curiosity, but of drudgery, boredom, and clock-watching.

I learn a lot watching my son, who is now just a little over one year old. The way he is in the cubicle is how I aspire to live life all the time: hungry, inquisitive, and driven by joy.