Good Work
and Why It Matters More
Than We Admit
A number of years ago, a friend shared with me that a colleague of theirs had a countdown app on their phone, marking the days until they could retire.
It was a bleak image. Not because retirement is bleak, but because of what it represented: a life spent waiting. A life measured not in moments of meaning, but in how quickly one could escape from work.
It reminded me of the scene in the movie Cast Away when Tom Hanks’ character scratches tally marks onto the wall of a cave on the island where he’s stranded. Each mark represents a day survived. Each mark is also a reminder of how trapped he is. I couldn’t help but see the countdown app the same way: a digital wall of tally marks, counting down not just to freedom, but through years of something that felt unbearable.
I desperately do not want to live my life with that kind of countdown hovering over me like a dark cloud. Quite the opposite, actually. I want to live like I am running out of time. Because, in the most literal sense, we are. And if life is finite, then the work that fills so many of our days better be pretty damn good.
I see the consequences of bad work everywhere. I see people spending years of their lives locked in petty conflicts with coworkers. I know people who work for organizations whose stated values clash deeply with their own. I see people going to jobs that actively prevent them from living the kind of lives they want to live. We tend to treat this as normal, something to tolerate, complain about, and push through….but I have come to believe something more serious is happening beneath the surface.
Bad work is not just frustrating. It is a public health crisis.
When work consistently communicates that you do not matter, that your voice is unwelcome, or that exhaustion is the price of belonging, it does not stay neatly contained within the walls of an office or a job site. It spills outward into bodies, families, and communities. It shapes how people sleep, how they relate to one another, and how they see themselves. We have normalized stress and burnout to such a degree that we rarely pause to ask what it is doing to us over time. We joke about hating Mondays. We celebrate overwork as dedication. We confuse emotional numbness with professionalism. And then we wonder why so many people feel disconnected, anxious, or quietly resentful.
So what is the alternative?
I am not suggesting that everyone quit their jobs tomorrow, move to the woods, and start baking sourdough while writing folk songs…unless that truly is what your heart is calling you to do. Then by all means: go bake that bread, and make that music. But most people I know are not trying to escape work altogether. They are trying to make their work feel more human.
For me, one of the most euphoric experiences in life is being in a state of flow. It does not happen every day, but when it does, when creativity takes over and time seems to disappear, I remember what good work can feel like. It feels absorbing rather than draining. It feels aligned rather than forced. It feels self-actualizing, rather than a means for survival.
There is a reason Annie Dillard’s words continue to resonate:
“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”
If our days are shaped primarily by fear, disconnection, or quiet despair, then our lives will be shaped by those same forces. But if our days make room for community, care, meaning, and growth, then something else becomes possible.
This is where the idea of “good work” comes in.
Not perfect work. Not endlessly fulfilling work. Not work without conflict or frustration. Just good work. Work that respects people. Work that makes room for learning and repair. Work that aligns more honestly with who we are and what we value. Work that does not require us to fragment ourselves in order to belong.
At the Solidago Institute, our mission is to help people lead lives, create workplaces, and build communities grounded in justice and well-being. Put more simply, we exist to help people take better care of one another at work. We believe that how people relate to each other in their working lives matters just as much as what they produce together. The quality of those relationships shapes the emotional climate of entire organizations and, by extension, the quality of people’s lives.
This is why we believe good work is possible in almost any industry. Not because conditions are magically equal everywhere, but because relationships exist everywhere. Whether someone works in healthcare, education, manufacturing, government, or the nonprofit world, the same basic questions are always present. Do people feel safe enough to be honest? Are they allowed to be fully human? Are care and accountability held together, or treated as opposites? Are differences seen as threats to manage or resources to learn from?
For the same reason we invest in friendships and family relationships, we should care deeply about the health of our workplace relationships. The people we work with shape our emotional landscape as much as anyone else in our lives. In many cases, they shape it more. Work is not a side activity. It is one of the primary arenas where we practice being human with one another.
Our vision has been to work with people across industries and roles because we believe growth is possible even in imperfect systems. This belief is why we chose goldenrod, or Solidago, as our guiding metaphor. Goldenrod thrives in difficult conditions. It grows in disrupted soil and along roadsides. It does not require ideal circumstances to bloom. For us, it represents the idea that meaningful change does not require perfect workplaces. It requires a willingness to tend what already exists.
To be clear, good work does not mean the absence of conflict. It means having healthier ways to hold conflict. It does not mean constant joy. It means the presence of meaning, even when things are hard. It does not mean eliminating struggle. It means refusing to make struggle the only story.
The Privilege of Good Work
It is also important to name something else honestly. Thinking about work as potentially meaningful or self-actualizing can sound deeply privileged, especially for people whose primary relationship to work is survival. That critique is real. Not everyone has mobility. Not everyone has safety. The language of “finding your calling” can ring hollow when rent is due and options are limited.
But this is precisely why we believe this work matters.
The goal is not to tell individuals to simply change their mindset, or “follow their passion.” The goal is to help organizations reimagine their workplaces so that dignity, care, and growth are not luxuries. Good work should not be a rare perk reserved for the lucky few. It should be a shared aspiration shaped by culture, policy, and leadership. We do not believe the solution is personal resilience alone. We believe the solution is collective responsibility.
When work begins to nourish people instead of slowly wearing them down, people show up differently. They treat one another differently. They carry less invisible weight. Good work does not magically solve every problem, but it makes more things honest. It creates space for people to bring their full selves rather than only the parts they think are acceptable.
We often measure work by output: productivity, efficiency, and growth. But there are other questions worth asking. Do people feel like they belong? Are mistakes treated as information or as failure? Is rest considered weakness or wisdom? Are differences merely tolerated, or genuinely welcomed? We do not need every workplace to become a dream job. But we do need more workplaces to stop being slow sources of harm.
This is why the Solidago Institute exists. Our work takes many forms: cohort programs, workshops, retreats, reflections, and conversations, but at its core, it is all aimed at the same thing: helping people imagine and practice better ways of working together. We believe good work is not just about what you do. It is about how you live.
In the months ahead, we will continue to share reflections from members of our faculty that explore themes like leadership and care, identity and belonging, rest and sustainability, meaning and responsibility, and conflict and connection. These reflections are not meant to offer easy answers. They are meant to invite deeper questions.
If the idea of good work resonates with you—whether you feel exhausted, hopeful, skeptical, or simply curious—we would love to stay in conversation. You can learn more about our work, follow along with our reflections, or join us in future programs and gatherings as they unfold.
None of us should have to count down our lives just to survive our jobs. And good work… real, human, imperfect good work… has the power to change far more than we often allow ourselves to imagine.
