I’m crossing a bridge right now.
On SIDE ONE of this bridge: Bottom line here is that we all work because we need the money for basic necessities. Food, mortgage/rent, clothing, electricity. You know. Then there are parts of our own unique paths that create costs we can’t avoid: dependence of aging parents, personal healthcare debts of our own, an asset we don’t want to live without. For me now, it’s childcare costs. Many families ask themselves if their jobs still net more than childcare costs (plus their personal value of time spent). We have unique reasons that we must make a certain amount of money.
On SIDE TWO of this bridge: Lives the image we’ve all pictured of a deeply passionate person, devoting themselves to a cause and career they absolutely love. They wake up motivated to do what they care about and !bonus! they get paid for it as their job as well. They have permanently secured what they need, and now they spend their time on only things they want. We all dream about how to create this life for ourselves, how to make choices that lead us to our passion and a daily dose of joy.
Back to the part where I’m crossing… I’ve realized it’s pretty typical that we all just STAY on side one of the bridge. It’s a familiar circumstance, misery loves company, and we’re all pretty used to standing there together. We work because we have to, and it’s socially accepted that we’re in this special hell together.
WELL…. In the last few days, I found myself yearning to be in my office. Yep, had about 5 days off around the Thanksgiving holiday, made my own schedule, had tons of time with my toddler and my closest family, complete autonomy… and now I just want to work. [[I just had one of those awkward, reactionary coughs as I even typed that]]
I realized I’m not working because I have to.
[[Exhale. Acknowledge the power returning to me]]
I am not a victim of the necessity to work.
What if none of us are?
Would you feel more freedom if you actually believed you’re choosing it?
It doesn’t matter what kind of job. Some are harder, dirtier, colder, more emotionally draining than others. Our skills are different. Maybe you don’t lay concrete because you’re passionate about concrete, but maybe you’re good enough that someone will pay you for it, and hey… you have something others don’t, and you’re choosing to use that skill today.
I’m 30 years old. I’m not writing this from the perspective of someone filled with the light of hope that I only have 5 years, 12 days and 38 hours left until retirement. Nope. (Multiply by 5 or something)
OK, I’ll get to my point. I’m realizing slowly that ‘working’ is ‘me time’.
It is so many things that give me opportunities. The byproduct of money benefits the whole family, but the activity itself benefits me alone. I’ll list a few: I have the opportunity to feel a sense of achievement by small tasks or huge projects, I feel a sense of contribution that feeds my self-worth, I use skills that are different from others and I feel that ever-desired sense of a little bit ‘special’, I get time to think, I exercise analysis, my brain feels healthier.
I’ve had some pretty “lame jobs”. It doesn’t matter the type of task. Look for the sensibilities that your time working provides and see that there is value to you, beyond the fact that hours stack pennies. . . (Photo New Zealand, 2011)
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