I can't say I enjoy waking up every morning with a knot in my stomach, or having to talk myself into getting up and putting a smile on my face to greet the day. You would think that once I finally get my eyes to close when I go to bed, my brain would grow tired of the subconscious stream of worry and close its doors for the night. But no. It keeps right on chugging like those natural gas rigs you see in the fields up by Mt. Pleasant. Going over and over the stack of bills I have tucked away in a worn manilla folder, waiting to be paid. When I awake, my defenses against these thoughts are down, I am vulnerable, I am weak. They have me immediately. It takes me a good hour of self talk to get the wall to raise once again, allowing me to function. It is a hell of a life.
Yet, there is another side to long-term unemployment. It is surreal, like stepping into another reality. It makes space for observation and reflection.
Being removed from the 8-5 daily routine makes me wonder why anyone would choose to spend the majority of their lives locked up in a building. I am no longer bathed in florescent lights or recycled air, tied to an ergonomically incorrect chair staring into a computer screen. I am blessed to see the sun rise into the noon sky, to watch the birds tugging at dead grasses, flying off to construct the nest that ensures their genes will pass into the future. I see the cycle of the season unfold before my eyes. It is beautiful.
I have had 921 days to think about anything and everything. Things like what it means to be a worker in our society. We didn't have pre-school when I grew up, you were simply a little darling doing little darling things. We didn't take Chinese in kindergarten so we could grow up to have a competitive advantage over others in the global economy. We got to be kids. I am not so sure I like the idea of grooming our little people to be worker bees for the capitalist bee hive. No wonder people are forgetting how important having fun is to our well-being. They are too tired from working.
There was a study done a few years back that looked at the average work day of indigenous peoples around the world. Three and half hours. That's right. The rest of the day is spent with family, friends, creating art, music, community. Some indoctrinated worker bees might shudder at this thought, proclaiming these people are simply lazy. That is part of the brainwashing that has happened in our industrial society. What is so wrong with working hard for half the day and then enjoying the rest of it? Doing what you love can be productive, too. Heart work it is called. It sounds good to me. No one ever grows old and says "I wish I would have spent more time at my job," do they?
One of the greatest gifts given to me during this time is the test of faith, the ability to stand in the middle of the eye of a hurricane. Let the storm swirl and move, I will move with it. It is so easy to get caught up in the fear of deprivation. Not enough money for my mortgage. Not enough money for phone bill. Not enough money for the gas bill or the car payment or the electric bill. No presents for birthdays or just because. Wow, how much of life revolves around money - the quest for it, the spending of it, the worrying about the shortage of it.
Think about it. How many things do we do that aren't tied to money? You go out to eat. Spend money. You go to work, earn money. You watch TV, and are bombarded with unending commercials to get you to spend money. Your dinner is interrupted by phone solicitors. You drive down the road, billboards are there to join you on your trip, unless of course you are in Vermont. You turn on the radio. More commercials. You open your mailbox, more advertising. You go to your Gmail account, ads on top and beside your inbox. You read this blog, there are ads. You go shopping, out for coffee, out for drinks. Spend more money. What do we do anymore that is not tied to money? Are we being absorbed into this crazy way of life, never to return?
Being unemployed removes me from some of this to a degree because I have no money to spend. These things become irrelevant. I am still surrounded by ads, but I see them from a different point of view. They have become unwanted, almost an infringement on my privacy. It matters not whether we want advertisements in our lives. We have no choice. I like choices.
I think it would be better if the beautiful towering white pines or exquisite waterfalls of Michigan were forced on us. Imagine in between segments of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, we had footage of a Lake Michigan sunset, or the Sleeping Bear Dunes instead of ads for prescription drugs that spend most of their 30 seconds telling us all the horrible side-effects (including death in some cases) we might experience should we take their product. They (the pines, waterfalls, sunset, dunes, not the drugs) would fill us with wonder and awe. They would make us smile. They would enrich our lives and soothe our Souls. I am liking this.
Because I am unemployed, my life has slowed, I have become more appreciative of things that really matter and want to live a more thoughtful, intentional life. I want to love more, appreciate more, slow down and live more. I want to notice the world around me. I hope you do, too.
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