Wide perspective, narrow focus
I’ve been on a bit of an emotional roller coaster lately, with some chapters in my life coming to a close and new ones beginning.
I often talk about the idea of the golden handcuffs—the concept that when you work in any industry for a while, your value appreciates with experience, rewarding your investment of effort, time, and focus.
The thing is, sometimes we reach a point where our enjoyment of a particular interest or vocation starts to wane. Maybe our circumstances change. Maybe external factors take away the joy. Sometimes, the choice is made for us.
The golden handcuffs symbolize feeling locked into something simply because it affords you a certain lifestyle or status. You might have the money (hence the "gold"), but you might also feel trapped, unable to explore or pursue other interests (hence the "handcuffs").
It’s not just about financial security—it’s also about identity. Holding onto a certain status that comes with a role can be just as binding as the paycheck.
Simon Sinek once shared an anecdote that stuck with me. He recounted a story about an undersecretary of defence who was invited to present at an event. The first time he went, he was flown in, chauffeured, and given things at a whim—including coffee served in a fine porcelain cup.
The next time he attended, no longer in the same capacity, there was no chauffeur, no special treatment. When he asked for coffee, he was directed to the coffee cart and handed a styrofoam cup.
The lesson was simple: as individuals, we are always worth the styrofoam cup. The porcelain cup was never for him—it was for the position he held at the time.
You can watch that video here
I went through a similar experience when I left my previous career. The phone stopped ringing. My circle shrank. It was easy to feel jaded, used, to wonder if people I once considered friends had ever been friends at all.
But the truth is, the perks, status, and relationships I had weren’t for me—they were for the role I held.
I have always only been worthy of the styrofoam cup.
That might sound harsh, but there’s a certain freedom in understanding that we all are. The porcelain cup is just a temporary illusion tied to circumstance.
For whatever reason, this anecdote reminds me of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, particularly the scene where they must choose the Holy Grail—the cup of Christ. Surrounded by extravagant chalices, the right choice turns out to be the simplest, most unassuming cup.
What a powerful lesson in humility.
At the end of the day, we all have access to the styrofoam cup. Our status and position may temporarily grant us a fancier one, but when all of that fades, at least we still have a cup to drink from—to take in life as it is.
It’s a subtle shift in perspective, but an important one. Knowing that the perks and status were never truly mine but belonged to the position I held keeps me grounded as I plant new seeds and pursue new opportunities in this next chapter.
I realize I veered a little off from my original title, but maybe that’s the point. Right now, I’m looking at life from a wide perspective while narrowing my focus on what matters most.
What do you think about the styrofoam cup anecdote?
