Basically, I no longer work for anything but the sensation I have while working.

Chase the feeling, not the finish

There's something radical about working purely for the feeling of it—not the paycheck, the promotion, or even the finished product. Giacometti, obsessively sculpting the same forms over and over, wasn't chasing external rewards. He was chasing that particular electric quality of being fully absorbed, of time disappearing, of hands and mind moving as one thing. Most of us are trained the opposite way: we're taught to work toward outcomes, to stay focused on what we'll gain or achieve.

But notice what happens when you flip it. A parent who scrubs the kitchen because they love the meditative rhythm of it, not because they're keeping score. A programmer who gets lost in solving a problem for three hours, forgetting to eat. A teacher who finds themselves animated in a way they never planned. The work becomes sustainable—even addictive—because you're running on internal fuel, not willpower.

The tricky part is that this only works if you're actually allowed to feel it. Many jobs are designed to numb that sensation, to turn work into obligation. But wherever you have any choice—in how you approach a task, which details you linger over, which projects genuinely intrigue you—you can hunt for that feeling. Once you taste it, the empty rewards feel hollow by comparison.