Beyond my sneaking suspicion that most lifestyle designers are the type of people that would take great pleasure in running full throttle and leaping in a fit of glee right into a sea of seizure-inducing colored balls — and then do it again simply because they’ve now got the time to do so — there’s actually a more sophisticated rationale (albeit not as fun) as to why lifestyle design is comparable to having a job at McDonald’s, and why it’s a positive thing.

As a child, whenever anyone asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up, “Work at McDonald’s” was never the answer, or we’d be at risk for being instantaneously swatted upside the head with the latest edition of the New York Times, while mom and dad’s heads shook in contempt and told us how we wanted a career, not a job.  Scorn, scorn, there-go-my-childhood-dreams-of-bringing-the-hamburgerler-to-justice.

Be versus Do

At a young age, we are implicitly taught that the ubiquitous “What do you want to be when you grow up?” was code for “What kind of career do you want to have?”  There we are, our sweet little 9-year old cheeks a flush,  simply trying to shovel endless amounts of Power Rangers fruit snacks into our mouths in peace, and here come all of these pesky adults, attempting to suffocate us with the one famously fatal American attitude of you are what you do. You are defined by how you produce income.  One of our society’s greatest flaws, in my opinion.

Notice that no one ever answers the question of what do you want to be when you grow up with world traveler, world-renowned salsa dancer, connoisseur of fine bourbon, excellent conversationalist, polar bear enthusiast or, my personal favorite, avid ball point pen collector.

Yet, if all were right in the world, these are exactly the types of responses we would be giving, because the distinction would be made between “be” versus “do,” and “What do you want to be when you grow up?” would transform into a two-part series including “What do you want to do when you grow up?”  Be versus do.  Hell, mental health professionals would be forced to close up shop.

Lifestyle Designers Know Better

Eventually, when we finally do engage ourselves in the requisite career selection process, we are told to pick a career based on our interests, passions and desires. (Do Spanish men count?)  ”You’re going to be doing it everyday for the rest of your life, so you had better love it!” At the time, this seemed like logical, sound advice.  Pick career.  Life gets based around it.  Voilà.  Middle-aged heart attack, coming right up, sir.

Lifestyle designers know better.  They have taken a stand against the career mentality, and instead of seeking a career they love, with their personal lives secondary, they’ve opted to seek a life they love, with a career as secondary. Except there’s one crucial distinction:  A lifestyle designer isn’t interested in a career; s/he is interested in having a McDonald’s-esque job.  I’ll explain.

For those of you who have read The Four-Hour Work Week, Tim Ferriss coins the term “muse” to refer to the type of job, as we’ll call it, that is one or multiple self-supporting businesses.  He states:

“Can a business be used to change the world, like The Body Shop or Patagonia?  Yes, but that isn’t one of our goals here . . . our goal is simple:  To create an automated vehicle for generating cash without consuming time.”

From this perspective, the aspiring lifestyle designer is not encouraged to pursue his/her passions from an income position, but rather to take an income position that will allow him/her to pursue his/her passions in a separate and unrelated fashion.  Although the two do not have to be mutually exclusive, they often are. Just like when you were in high school and worked at McDonald’s–you did it so you could fund your personal life, not because you were passionate about hot, artery-clogging grease and those killer visors.  A lifestyle designer may or may not be all that passionate, per say, about their particular chosen stream of income;  they are passionate about living life, and enabling themselves to do so through a variety of non-related means.  They are the masters at differentiating their identities as people versus their identities as income producers.

For example, Ferriss’ muse was called BodyQUICK, a vitamin supplement.  Two of the examples he gives in the book include a guy selling French shirts and a woman selling a yoga DVD.  Or take real life lifestyle design superstar David Walsh (@dvdwalsh) of Muselife.com, who has successfully created a muse called Audio Mixology, in which aspiring bartenders can download a combination of audio and print materials designed to teach basic mnemonic devices for memorizing cocktail ingredients, or his business partner, Seth Hosko (@shosko) of www.sethhosko.com, who is in the process of creating a new muse designed as an iPhone app called Language Cheat in which users become versed in how to realistically use a foreign language for practical, real-world applications.

The point here is that I’m willing to bet that Ferriss would not describe himself as being passionate about vitamins.  (Although I would argue that Walsh is, in fact, passionate about mixology; I recently had the pleasure of meeting up with both he & Seth here in Philadelphia, during which time my whiskey consumption skills were put to the test.)  In any event, what we’re seeing is a drastic shift in mind-set, where the notion of a career as the ideal has become an antiquated, almost foolish choice, and the notion of having self-sufficient muses–or “jobs,” as I see it, being defined as something you do for money’s sake, like a job at McDonalds–has taken its place. Except this is a hybrid of jobs that are carefully constructed, smart, intelligent designs implemented with purpose, deliberation and intention, and unlike McDonald’s, you are free to take your time and do with it what you please.  The practice of lifestyle design is an art form in its own right.

What’s Your Message?

That said, there is one other amusing similarity between LD & McDonald’s:  The slogans that have graced the golden arches throughout the years are curiously well-suited to the lifestyle designer.  Check it:

• What You Want Is What You Get (1992 – 1995)
• Do You Believe in Magic?  (1993 – 1997)
• Have You Had Your Break Today?  (1995 – 1997)
• We Love To See You Smile (2000 – 2003)
• I’m lovin’ it  (2003 – Present)

I’m a big fan of the first and last slogans in particular, but all of them carry an underlying message that reflect a carefree, life-is-good-on-this-side-of-the-fence that encourages the consumer to take a time out from the harried, frenzied life of the rat race–and I think that’s something that all lifestyle designers can relate to.

To all of the aspiring lifestyle designers out there, what types of muses are you contemplating?  Have you been able to successfully combine something you’re passionate about with an income stream?  Just want to express your newfound desire to jump into a sea of balls?  Let’s hear your thoughts.