​​​HANDYDAN

Dan Nicholson tried to do the 9-to-5 thing. In 2007, armed with a physics degree from Purdue, he secured a job as a laser engineer. He had a salary and health insurance, plus he was using his degree, which is more than almost every English major can say.

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But every day he was going through the motions; checking off boxes; adhering to strict protocols.

 

“And I was just thinking: If I do this for 20 years, I will be able to talk to .01 percent of the population about this useless thing I’m doing,” he said.

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He couldn’t hide his disillusionment and lost his job.

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But subconsciously, he had a backup plan: All day at the lab he fantasized about working on houses. And that’s how he became HandyDan — a guy who specializes in fixing anything that might go wrong with your home.

 

As the new year rolls around and people start to talk resolutions, it’s a timely moment to ask ourselves if we’re doing what we really want to be doing. Like HandyDan, many people have alter egos — if only in their imaginations — living a more fulfilled life in some parallel universe.

 

These dream lives tend to fall under two umbrellas. Ask a random sampling of Washingtonians and you’ll find that many want to be closer to nature. They want to settle somewhere in the Caribbean and manage a store or restaurant. Maybe rent paddleboards to tourists. Or sit on a sailboat and just float around.

 

The second category is people who want to create something tangible. The pharmaceutical researcher visiting from Columbus, Ohio, who hoped to turn his carpentry hobby into a full-time gig; a guy who does tech support but would rather be making movies; a legal fellow who dreams of being a full-time writer. She can even imagine her office: a room of her own somewhere remote, probably Iowa.

 

Some people will tell you, without the briefest contemplation, that they’re living the dream. (Especially lawyers.)

 

But for everyone else, what does it say that these dream lives are so at odds with reality?

It turns out there's an explanation. Let's start with nature. When we're overtaxed mentally, an urge to surround ourselves with plants and oceans grows. In "The Myths of Happiness," psychology professor Sonja Lyubomirsky explains that sitting on a tree stump in the forest or reclining on the sand listening to the waves frees us up mentally to experience life through all our senses.

 

Flipping constantly between Facebook friend requests and Twitter notifications and the little email alert window isn't natural. Just look at the 2014 Stanford University study that found multitasking to be both counterproductive and potentially damaging to our brains. Meanwhile, boredom has been shown to have positive effects. It leaves space for creative thinking.

 

Jenniffer Green, a life coach and self-proclaimed "get your [stuff] together ninja," says our hankering for the outdoors comes from the same place as our longing to be creative.

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“Most of my clients have this overwhelming desire to create or be in nature,” she said. “And I think that that’s due to the fact that people are craving that connection with themselves.”

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One of Green’s solutions is having her clients schedule “play time”: no-stakes activities that give people the chance to slow down and use their brains in ways that they haven’t in a while.

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When the burdens of modern life weigh people down, a huge life change is tempting. Rather than making incremental adjustments, better to just quit your job, flush your cellphone and move to an island.

 

Or maybe there’s a way to find compromise.

 

Think of the nine-to-fivers whose crafty hobbies become another income stream, thanks to Etsy. Sometimes technology, though it hobbles us, also helps.

 

Telecommuting was the trick for government consultant Andrew MacDonald. The New Zealand native works for a company he loves, but something wasn’t right. Maybe it was the District’s career-first attitude and the limitless appetite for getting ahead.

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“It can’t all be work,” he said. “I absolutely refuse to live my life being defined only by my job.”

So he made a deal with his boss. Now he works in the District for one week a month and does his job remotely from Austin the other three, which is more conducive to pursuing his musical interests.

 

To his friends in Texas, he’s not a consultant. He’s the guy playing banjo and guitar.

The recent craze for all things artisanal has been a siren song for office workers who want to leave cubicle life and work with their hands. That's what Yael Krigman did in 2011 when she quit her job as an international trade lawyer to bake cake pops. (They're exactly what they sound like: balls of cake covered in frosting served on a stick.) Five years later, Baked by Yael has graduated from a one-woman operation based in a synagogue to an airy, colorful brick-and-mortar shop on Connecticut Avenue right across from the National Zoo.

 

In her past life, Krigman wanted nothing more than to become an associate. But when she finally reached that point, it wasn’t all she thought it would be. She was working in abstractions, writing briefs for people she would never meet. Now she creates something tangible (not to mention delicious), and she gets to see her customers’ delight firsthand.

 

“When you’re a lawyer, no one’s really happy to see you,” she said. “Typically it’s because you’re in trouble or you might be in trouble or you want to avoid being in trouble. It’s not usually a happy experience.”