There’s a romantic idea we inherited from the ’90s. That maybe—just maybe—our work selves and our true selves could be one and the same. That we wouldn’t need to clock in and become someone else. That the emails, the spreadsheets, the standups, the late-night breakthroughs—they could all be part of something bigger than just a job.
It sounded like fiction.
And then Severance came along and asked: What if you actually could split the two? What if there was an “innie” who worked, and an “outie” who lived—and neither knew the other?
A horror story for some.
A fantasy for others.
But maybe there’s a third path.
Most of us have been raised with two opposing models:
- Work to live. Clock in, clock out. Work is a means. Life begins at 6 PM.
- Live to work. Your job is your purpose. Your career is your identity. It’s not what you do—it’s who you are.
And both have their truths. And their traps.
But there’s a third camp. Quiet. Rare. Often misunderstood.
It’s when the boundary dissolves—not in burnout or obsession, but in flow.
Where work doesn’t feel like work.
Where the doing becomes the being.
Where you stop asking “Is this my passion?” and start noticing: you forgot to ask, because you were too immersed.
This isn’t a life of balance.
It’s a life of integration.
Someone in that Grantland thread put it beautifully:
“To evolve without stop and throw away the old self without hesitation… to live for something bigger.”
This isn’t the treadmill of workaholism. It’s not escapism, either.
It’s the fire of becoming. The kind that doesn’t care if it happens in an office or a studio or a Slack channel or a lonely road at 3 a.m. with an idea you just can’t let go of.
It’s not about “balance” because balance implies opposition. As if life is over here, and work is over there, and we’re perpetually juggling two different planets.
But what if they were never meant to be split?
What if the deepest form of freedom isn’t separation, but synthesis?
So here’s a thought:
Forget balance.
Forget even purpose.
Instead—look for flow. Look for the thing that makes time irrelevant and effort joyful. That makes “inbox zero” meaningless, because you’re chasing something infinite.
Work doesn’t have to be your life.
But it can be part of it.
Seamlessly. Naturally. Like breath.
And in that state, you’re not working to live or living to work.
You’re just… living. Fully.
No severance required.