I knew a man - back 20 years ago - who was curator of antiquities at the Toledo Museum of Art. He was reasonably well-compensated, but frequently would say that he would do his job for free, because he loved what he did. He often said that he was one of the luckiest people in the world, because he got paid to 'play' for a living.
I envied the snot out of him then. Still do, to a degree.
Chuck Chamberlain, author of A New Pair of Glasses, talked about the men who worked for him in his retail-store-fixture company. There were the men who loved what they did - who found joy in creating and building - for whom work was not a burden. And then there were the people who were "living for the weekend" - slogging through five days of "workin' for the Man" to get two days of joy. That, he said, was a lousy place to be in.
Don't I know it.
This last week, I have allowed myself to get sucked dry - both by work and by social requests from friends. For ten days straight I've worked longer hours than usual, and then every night I have been gone doing something - and my life shows it. My laundry isn't done, the boxes I have unpacked are sitting untidily piled in a corner - it's just a mess. And I woke up this morning, knowing that my boss will be out of town this weekend, and this weekend will be just for me. My thought was, "One more day..."
I'm not sure the next job will be the one like my former friend at the museum. But I hope I can find one that is less of a joy-vampire than this one. Still, it is a job - and it looks like they're going to be able to meet payroll this week (it wasn't at all certain, as late as yesterday morning). So I'll take it and run with it. I'm not enjoying work, but I am grateful for it. It beats the hell out of not working...
God, help me to find strength to do what needs to be done at work this day - and then to spend the time this weekend to clean up the wreckage of my immediate past. I need your guidance, and your strength, to change my heart and my attitude. There is both heaven and hell ahead in this day - help me keep my eyes focused on "the hills from whence come my strength." Amen.
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2 comments:
Rambler;
Your words have meant a lot to me this past week....I could write a ton, but charged with the two year olds welfare...just a few minutes of not watching here leads to trouble....
I will be 47 in 2 weeks and feel I have never found my role, my niche, my reason for being. At least not vocationally. It kills me inside, my spirit hurts badly. To unselfish (or perhaps just an insecure, please please please please like me people pleaser) to be a businessman, too selfics to be a priest, teacher or social worker...too smart for the dumb ones, too dumb for the smart ones....never fit in...scared to death about money...immobilized...at least in terms of positive actions..the negative ones dont seem top be frozen by fear....activated would be more like it....I really related to what you said...I was a construction worker with a UC education...I hated my work, big time..I used to say my day breaks down into 3 distinct parts...1. Is it coffe time yet? 2. Is it lunch time yet? 3. Is it time to go home yet? There was a time, early on, in my early 20s, when I shared that "I love this, working with my hands..really making something....contibuting to the world..see, I BUILT THAT!!" mindset. That left me after just a few years, as I saw the way the trades ground a man down...selling his body, selling his life...one day at a time....I really came to hate it in short order...
as of now, I am adrift...completely....so very very much to say, but the baby must be looked after. I wish god would either make my mind stonger, so I understood these things, or weaker, so I was blissfully unaware like my old joe sixpack comrades...but alas, the middle ground kills me. I am profoundly sad.
Peter
god I have to remeber to spell check....
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