Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness matters

I overlooked the time, yesterday afternoon, and had a cup of coffee some time around 3:00 pm. Particularly foolish, since it wasn’t even good coffee; I was at the office. I enjoyed an excellent evening in the company of the wanderer, listening to tales of his most recent adventures, and finished the night with a long phone call with my traveling partner, and feeling rather like a giddy teenager looking forward to our date tonight. I didn’t fall asleep until well past midnight.

This morning I woke, out of habit, sometime around 4:00 am, dizzy, groggy, and fumbling with the pillbox on my nightstand; it made sense to take my medication on time. I promptly went back to sleep and woke hours later to the playful alarm on my phone jingling away cheerily, reminding me to take care of my hormone replacement – in case I had forgotten earlier in the morning. It’s my back-up alarm…set for a time of day that I will ‘most definitely always be awake by then’…this morning, I was not awake. I fought myself on getting up or returning to sleep; I could use more sleep. By the time I had renegotiated with myself and figured out sleep is the answer…I was awake. Fully awake…and up, grinding coffee, doing yoga…yep. I’m up.

"Forest pearls"

“Forest pearls” remind me it isn’t necessary to find enlightenment to enjoy the moment; I’ve no idea what this plant actually is, but it doesn’t stop me from being delighted by it.

It’s a lovely morning. I have a few things to do with the day, before the delights of an evening with my traveling partner commence. As I write, “something I need” nags at me…only I can’t recall what it is, just seconds after thinking of it. I’m frustrated by the experience, and somewhat immobilized; my ‘old way’ of dealing with something like this would result in tearing the house apart trying to find whatever I’d lost, or scrolling through all my wish lists looking for the thing that had surfaced in my memory. It has a ‘oh right! You must not forget this…’ quality to it. I start down that path, but recognize it as a distraction, and not a useful one, and set the whole matter aside; the handy thing about things I ‘really need’ (to do, or to buy) is that needs don’t suddenly go away, and I will eventually recall it quite easily. If it’s not actually something I need, it won’t matter at all that I’ve forgotten it. The frustration, and sense of being stalled, dissipates quickly.

My coffee is tasty, and I am enjoying the beans from the roaster I am now buying from. I recognize I’m almost out of coffee with some puzzlement…didn’t I just order coffee…recently? I check my email for the receipt. Yep. I ordered coffee a week ago…it hasn’t arrived? That’s odd…I grin at myself alone, and having one of those ‘perspective of aging’ moments; I can easily remember when a letter mailed to a far away friend might take more than a week to arrive at its destination, and sending away for something in the mail used to come with a written disclaimer ‘expect delivery in 6 to 8 weeks’. Now it seems reasonable to be frustrated when a package doesn’t arrive within a week, and I generally expect that a bill dropped in the mail will clear my bank account reliably in 2 days if it’s local. So much of the day-to-day communication in life is very near real-time, now. It’s quite different than* I recall from…say…the 70s. Holy crap, I’m ‘old’. LMAO!! 😀 (…and not because I’m 52, but because I so regularly make this particular ‘then’ and ‘now’ comparison, ‘these days’; very difficult to do from the vantage point of one’s youth.)

The path isn't always obvious.

The path isn’t always obvious. The lesson is not always spelled out. Perspective has value.

It’s an easy morning. I’m a huge fan of easy, and I like to appreciate it any time I can. If that includes sleeping in, sipping coffee, and taking my time figuring out my day while cool morning air fills the apartment with the scent of roses and the sound of birdsong – well sign me up and call it Saturday. 🙂

Today is a good day to live beautifully and practice The Art of Being. Today is a good day for kindness, for listening, and for enjoying the journey. Today is a good day to be reminded that agita over elections that are more than a year away is a foolish waste of precious limited life time, and that what is here, now, has infinitely more value in my experience than the fears of what may be, or the anger over what has been. In fact…today is a good day to change the world.

Use your words.

Use your words. Use them wisely.

*Note for the grammar fans: I didn’t allow spell check to change ‘different than’ to ‘different from’ because what I actually say in real life is indeed ‘different than’. It does not disturb me in this instance that the grammar is ‘wrong’. I regret any stress this may cause you.

The morning unfolds gently, quietly, slowly – and I am at home, not camping. I woke in the comfort of my bed, rather than waking in agony, stiff, and struggling to get my bones up off the ground. I have entirely deviated from any semblance of planning for the weekend – and I am also entirely okay with that; what I need from me with this time can be had right here, and figuring out how to get it here at home is a worthy endeavor, itself.

Although I was packed up and ready for my weekend in the trees, Thursday quickly went sideways once I confirmed that literally every reservable tent camping space within a 3 hour drive had been reserved. Frustrated by the outcome of my own lack of advance planning, I sat down with my thoughts to get my bearings, and check traffic for the route to the state park I was most inclined to drive to, figuring I might take my chances on a non-reservable space still being available so close to a choice summer camping weekend. The traffic was reported to be terrible (making a 45 minute drive nearly 2 hours). I became more fully aware of how much pain I was in. Camping seemed much less appealing than it had only days before.

Cats have a good idea what to do with their leisure time.

Cats have a good idea what to do with their leisure time.

Adulthood does have one clear advantage over childhood, and although I capitalize on it less often than I could, I sure did on Thursday – I straight up owned being adult, and grabbed hold of the “I can do whatever I want” opportunity. I revisited my entire weekend plan, over a very tasty cup of coffee – no bed time – and decided on a series of day hikes fairly nearby, ones that are difficult to reach on public transit (taking advantage of having my traveling partner’s car for the weekend). I considered other things that appeal to me, that I can’t easily do most weekends (due to the limitation of not having a car, myself), and also made plans to visit favorite local places that are generally just out of reach.

My Thursday evening was very relaxed, and focused on caring for myself, and indulging simple pleasures. I turned off the technology, even my phone. I put the stereo on sounds of rainfall – hours of it that I have recorded myself over the years, drowning out the sounds of the world outside as well as I could. It was, after all, the stillness that I was seeking most aggressively with this time… wait… what? Something nagged at me, even then…

There is something about being alone out in the trees, walking, awake, aware, and on my own journey.

There is something about being alone out in the trees, walking, awake, aware, and on my own journey.

Friday was very pleasant. My long hike on the trails through Tryon Creek Park was quite lovely, and refreshing, and…lovely. I could still hear the sounds of traffic with every step, and never did escape the continuous awareness of the presence of humanity. Was that what I was looking for? If so – did I understand how unrealistic a goal it was? (Rather like chasing ‘happily ever after’.) I felt a subtle aggravation with the experience, that coexisted with the pleasure of walking among the trees, along the creek, on paths that twisted, turned, climbed, dropped, and winded among trees of surprising age, and the lush dense greens of forest that I definitely had been seeking for comfort and nourishment.

This is my journey. Your results may vary.

This is my journey. Your results may vary.

I took both perspectives on the experience home with me. A bite of lunch, and a cup of coffee later and I was off again – headed down the road to where there are lovely roses to be had; it was on my mind to restore my patio garden to its own lushness, after weeks of sweltering heat, and to replace roses that had been carelessly lost more than a year ago, during a winter storm when I was out of town. Several of my favorite miniature roses in containers, that I had brought with me when I moved in, had died. I don’t think anyone else noticed, or cared, but it bothered me greatly and I missed them here at Number 27. I spent Friday afternoon gardening – another activity I find soothing, uplifting, and restoring. Friday was quite wonderful.

“The Sorcerer” – selected for my garden as an homage to love’s magic in my life.

Evening came, and that was when the various sensations, ideas, and perspectives collided while I was meditating; I was seeking stillness by running from the noise. It was a needed ‘aha!’ moment. I was ‘filling my time’ instead of actually embracing the possible stillness. It’s an easy mistake to make, but ineffective; I take myself with me everywhere I go. If the stillness I seek would be within, then the noise I am attempting to escape may similarly be within me; running won’t get me very far from myself. It wasn’t that the time was wasted, or that the investment in self-care and things I enjoy is a mistake; I enjoyed my time, and it was well-spent – but it wasn’t going to get me any closer to the stillness I know I am needing.

This morning I woke early, and returned to sleep. It’s not possible to over-state the value of adequate rest. When I woke, I didn’t turn on the computer, the stereo, or the noise of the world. I showered in mindful silence, feeling the sensations, and being present. I took my time with my morning yoga, being patient with myself, and focused on the moment and each movement. I made my coffee with great care, and without wandering off to do something else during the process. One mindful task at a time, and no attempt to ‘multi-task’. I permit myself no distractions this morning. Over time, my ‘thinker’ has shoved my ‘observer’ out of the driver’s seat far too often for my good emotional health, and like a restless child, my ‘thinker’ wants to be on the move all the time. It’s a playground for my demons, and I am quickly overwhelmed by the noise – I had forgotten that the noise is most often entirely within, and similarly within my ability to silence the din. Chasing the stillness by running from the noise is not the most effective practice for finding the stillness.

bridge

I’m not the first to cover this ground; other thinkers and seekers of stillness have been here before me, each having our own experience.

So here it is, today. I am at home. It is a quiet morning. I have choices – most of them come down to choosing to embrace the stillness I am seeking, or to run from the noise (and no doubt getting things done along the way, but definitely not finding the stillness).  A very good practice, I find, for embracing stillness is the practice of sitting still (literally that simple) – no stereo, no video, no conversation, no guided meditation – just sitting, quietly, breathing, aware of the sounds around me, aware my breath, filled with awareness itself – it sounds easy, but the restlessness and noise within want very much to be indulged, and it sometimes requires repeatedly returning to the present moment, setting aside distracting thoughts to breathe again, to be aware of the sounds without judgement or evaluation. We are coached all our lives to be productive, to refrain from ‘daydreaming’, and to maintain an active presence in the world. Sitting still requires practice.

Sometimes it seems necessary to find just the right place for sitting still...this too, is a distraction.

Sometimes it seems necessary to find just the right place for sitting still…this too, is a distraction.

Whatever else I may do with my time today, I will be doing it gently, mindfully, and savoring each precious moment.

It may be necessary to stand still long enough for stillness to catch up to me. :-)

It may be necessary to stand still long enough for stillness to catch up to me. 🙂

I’ll let the stillness come to me.

It can be pretty daunting to work day after day after day after day attempting to reach a goal – harder still if I have adopted that goal from a suggestion, or had it dictated to me. When I miss the mark somewhere, or fall short of expectations – whether they are my own, or the expectations of another – it frustrates me, challenges my thinking, sets me at odds with myself (and sometimes with others) – all in service to an unavoidable prerequisite for achieving a goal; I’m not there yet.

There is plenty of encouraging literature in the self-help aisle, and more than a few apropos aphorisms reminding me that ‘to err is human’ and that ‘practice makes perfect’ (reminder: it doesn’t, at all), and book after book coaching on the  matter of progress over time, learning curves, and playing to ones strengths. When I make a mistake, I often find I am not open to encouragement, not willing to accept information intended to support self-compassion, patience, and growth – incremental change over time feels amazing, but is often received by others less well – with impatience and negative reinforcement. That generally sucks, and feels quite alienating. Human primates want they want, and living in this ‘right now’ moment the way we do, and suffering from such limited perspective (our own), it can be so easy to lose sight of how different we can each be in some moment, how varied our challenges are, and our own individual frustration with that other person takes on a life of its own – weapons of mass distraction are launched, sometimes with regret after the fact. Our impatience to have our own needs met overrides our recognition that this other human being does not live for our benefit.

I find myself struggling to ‘get it right’ – losing sight of how vast the options to do so actually are, and that I, myself, define my success or failure. Sometimes, things that are just fine, and acceptably adequate in all regards don’t feel like enough. I set the bar pretty high for myself – sometimes at the expense of my contentment, and well-being, and sometimes without realizing I have done so. I continue to work on practicing the practices that best support my needs over time. If I find I have discontinued something of great value, I begin again. I continue to support and nurture my best impulses, my most positive values, and to care greatly for this fragile vessel, and the being of light within it… sometimes I fail myself. It hurts, like any failure. I make the effort, every time, at some point, to simply give myself a break and begin again.

The thing is…there are goals, of course, but if they become expectations over time, the tendency to berate myself or treat myself poorly in the face of ‘not getting it right’ can be pretty significant – and I so don’t need that from me! The solution sometimes seems to be ‘then I just won’t bother’…like a child, fighting the process, because the process isn’t easy. Silliness, I know.  Growth takes time, and there are verbs involved. Practice may not make perfect, but it certainly crafts change – for me the fine line is what the change is about, and is it something I actually want for myself, or is it being imposed on me from an external source? That matters – I am on a journey to become the woman I most want to be, and I’m sharing my journey with my very best bestie, the woman in the mirror. Changes or goals imposed on me by my own will and intent, with mindful purpose, and good-natured recognition of what I want from myself in life aren’t ‘easy’ to achieve – sometimes they are damned difficult – but getting there is rewarding, and the journey itself is valued, however difficult. Giving up is generally not something I am seeking, or allowing myself. When change is imposed on me by external sources, or a goal is set by another person’s needs and agenda, getting there lacks any sense of reward, the journey is often a continuous source of stress and frustration, and my resentment is… a lot to drag around with me.

This probably seems pretty obvious – I’m talking it through this morning because I find that I am sometimes challenged by the intensity of my frustration when I fail at some task, goal, or have difficulty implementing some change that I neither desire, nor care about. What’s up with that? If it’s not my own, and I am not invested in it, why would I be the slightest bit troubled if or when I don’t succeed at it? How would that be any measure of my own success? How would it affect me in any negative way? That’s some baggage right there – and I’d do well to drop it off at the carousel and let it go.

We've all got some baggage.

We’ve all got some baggage.

I slept badly last night. I struggled to fall asleep, and it was well past midnight before I did. My sleep was interrupted a number of times; my apartment seemed unusually noisy, with an assortment of rather random bangs, bumps, creaks, thuds, and crackles that got me out of bed, flipping on lights, checking things out – at no time was there anything unusual to see. Sleep did not find me easily. I woke long before the alarm, with no particular hope of returning to sleep; I woke feeling frustrated, and vaguely as if I was failing to get something right. (In this case, probably sleep – I definitely wasn’t getting that right!) Once I was up, it was a rather anti-climactic ‘nothing to see here…’ sort of moment. I am awake, and woke easily, without any of the obvious grogginess that has plagued me for some days, now. I am finding new appreciation for a few moments (hours) of grogginess after a night of deep restful sleep… I probably won’t be bitching ungratefully about that any more; I value the sleep.

I am not tired so much as excited, perhaps; I have a long weekend, and I’m headed into the trees. My traveling partner is traveling, too, and taking the wanderer, and another partner, along with him for a weekend of forested fun elsewhere; they are headed to vast crowds, loud music, and communal fun. I am seeking a solo experience, and stillness, where it will be easier to listen deeply to myself; the world has nothing to say to me about what I want from my life.  I already miss my traveling partner…but I recognize that as with any other intimate connected relationship, I benefit from distance now and then; without it, I am prone to accepting the goals, needs, and desired changes of that other as my own – to my detriment. I’m not always super clear-headed about these things, and alone out in the trees, walking in stillness, listening to my own heart, I am more easily able to get my bearings, and set my own course on this journey. It’s a necessary sort of re-calibration, for me, that I am not so easily able to do at home, even now.

Did I mention I’ll be headed into the trees? You’ll likely be without me a day or two. I’ll come back with pictures. 🙂

It’s Monday morning. I woke with some effort, to the alarm, and still struggle to ‘really wake up’. I slept well and deeply, and woke up only once, and at an unusual hour. At 3:17 am I woke, thinking I heard a noise. The noise was the sound of a front door buzzer pushed twice in rapid succession “bzzzt bzzzt”. It seemed an actual sound, but whatever actually woke me didn’t do so with any ease. I was incredibly groggy and dizzy, and there was nothing at the door – or elsewhere that I noticed – and I returned to sleep so quickly that I wonder now if any of it was real – even the waking up and getting up, parts.

I’m having trouble waking fully and getting my brain online. I am groggy even now – more than an hour after waking. The sky is still quite dark. Dawn has moved later into the morning. I am impatiently waiting for my coffee – which I am having some trouble making with skill, because I am not quite awake. I take my time with it – and successfully stop myself from rubbing my eyes while I am making coffee, avoiding rubbing coffee, coffee grounds, or hot water in my eyes. This morning, that feels like a major success. 🙂

The morning is cool, and I feel the cool air filter in through the open patio door and the vertical blinds. I am drenched in sweat after making coffee and feeling peculiarly overheated. Hormones? Please, no, not today…it is, after all, Monday. I take a deep breath of the cool morning air, and fill my thoughts with the memories of the weekend as I fill my lungs with fresh scents of this summer morning. I took the additional ‘taking care of me’ step of un-syncing my work email over the weekend, and resetting my smart device so that my work email will only sync manually outside of work hours, reducing the likelihood that I will waste precious life-time on work-related matters by reflex or habit during leisure hours. It is powerfully freeing to return to a lifestyle when work is limited to those occasions that it is scheduled for. I needed the break, badly, and don’t easily set those boundaries with myself unaided – which definitely makes setting those boundaries with colleagues challenging. My traveling partner had observed rather firmly quite recently that I was not taking the best care of myself in this area; change was needed.

Yesterday I spent the better part of the morning with my traveling partner, unexpectedly, and to my great delight. It was a lovely treat, although he arrived distressed and agitated. The level of day-to-day drama in his experience at home is much higher than mine, here at Number 27. I did everything I could to support and soothe him, and even though we shared some [perhaps unnecessarily] emotional moments together, I cherish the time with him. He made a point of following through on his commitment to provide me with some technical support (my bluetooth wasn’t working, and my own troubleshooting did not resolve the issue), and in the process uncovered the likely cause; I had peripherals plugged in to USB ports in a sort of willy-nilly random way, primarily intended for cable management, without regard to USB 3 ports, or always-on ports, or what devices need what sorts of ports, and having no particular understanding that those details were important I had created conflicts. I feel a moment of sympathy; it’s probably just as hard on my laptop to be mine, as it is for people to live with me! This morning, though, there is music. (And yesterday evening, too.) 🙂

Change is. Progress happens. We are at a disadvantage if our understanding of the world becomes 'set in stone'.

Change is. Progress happens. We are at a disadvantage if our understanding of the world becomes ‘set in stone’.

We enjoyed coffee together, and conversation, and laughter, once the technical work was finished. It was hard coming to terms with one facet of aging; I am struggling to remain current with technology, now. Poignant and emotional for me, frustrating for my traveling partner; there is no room for crying during technical support. He’s a decently good sport about it, and although somewhat impatient with me, and frustrated by my emotionality, he makes a point of hearing me. That’s enough. I got by on that, and we moved on with the morning. The high point of my afternoon was soaking in a hot bath, listening to Barry White, and talking on the phone with my traveling partner – an experience I could not easily have had the day before (my stereo sounds way better than music played over laptop speakers). 🙂

My point is that the ups and downs don’t have to be tragic, or an unrelenting buzzkill; we’re all people, having our own experience, and it is sometimes an emotional one. How we treat each other – how we treat ourselves – can be accepting and supportive and aware, and emotions pass. The respect we give each other – each having our own experience – and consideration we give each other while we do so, are a big deal; they define our character, and define the love we share. An honest apology, no excuses, goes a long way when we are not at our best. Our loves are not a dumping ground for emotional toxic waste, and when we share hurts, strong emotions, moments of anger, it’s urgently important that we follow-up with consideration, with compassion, with recognition of their difficult experience sharing that moment with us. Being open isn’t solely about sharing who we are, and how we feel – it’s also a willingness to listen deeply, to be present in the moment when our love sets boundaries, or tells us we’ve caused them pain, and accept the consequences of our actions with honor, with respect, and providing reciprocal support. In this, too, there are practices to practice, verbs involved, and room to grow – and incremental change over time can seem so slow…because that other person can matter so much.

I am taking the morning slowly.

I am taking the morning slowly.

It’s a Monday. This one begins, for me, on a foundation of adequate rest, and good self-care. It would be lovely if that were an absolute assurance of a great week, but I know that there are verbs involved, and plenty of decision-making, and opportunities to communicate with clarity and practice good practices that support my needs over time. This morning, waking so slowly, it is as if I have a head start on slowing down, perhaps there is greater potential there than I understand?

Today is a good day to take things one at a time, with consideration, listening deeply, and recognition that each of us is utterly and entirely human. Today is a good day to be aware that the relationships matter more than the challenges. Today is a good day to ask for help when I need it, and accept help when it is offered. Today is a good day for beginnings; a good beginning has all the potential to change the world. [Note: there are verbs involved, and your results may vary.]

It’s a Saturday morning. The habit of a lifetime of employment tends to get me up most mornings sometime around the same time of morning that I wake all week long. Work changes life. I am sipping my coffee, made with great care, and savoring the morning; it will not lead me to the office. This, right here, is life being lived. What follows are words…resentful words, contentious words, discontented words, and yes – angry words. In short – ranting. You don’t have to read it; figured I’d give you an easy out and let you know in advance.

Our harvest has much to do with what we planted, and how we tended our garden.

Our harvest has much to do with what we planted, and how we tended our garden.

There is so much to read about ‘work-life balance’, for and against, pro and con, is it realistic, is it worthy, is it necessary, is it valued… and I think my own musings took me along a path that opened my eyes to something relevant – a detail I don’t often see openly discussed in a comfortable way; it matters what we do for employment (work) whether work and life are out of balance in the first place. If I am working too hard, feeling under-compensated, exploited, taken for granted, and find myself compromising my own needs for my employer, then work and life are most assuredly out of balance… but…what if my passion is for the work that I do? Perhaps then the experience is quite different? If we are trying to have a discussion about work and life and balance, it’s probably important to be mindful of the nature of the work, and the nature of the life, and the needs of the individual humans discussing it relevant to their own experiences. It is a conversation with many voices.

It's my own perspective, and like so many things it may look different from some other point of view.

This is my own perspective, and like so many things it may look different from some other point of view.

For me, there is nothing whatever about the work I do that is ‘important’ to me, to the world, to humanity, to the future of our survival, to our day to day health as a society, or progress as a specie. I play a role that comes down to enhancing the revenue generating potential of other human beings engaged in task completion for our employer’s agenda. I gain nothing from the greater success, myself, when my employer does. This is likely the common experience of employment for a great many people. This sort of employment is rarely physically difficult, but it is mind-numbingly tedious – and for an artist, for a writer, for a poet, for a human being, this amounts to nothing more or less than a conversion of life-force to currency that can be used to further my own ends, and to live my life more easily (it’s hard to paint if the power is turned off, or I have no funds for canvas!). It makes the concerns over ‘is the compensation sufficient’ incredibly important, very relevant, and a key deciding factor on whether any one job is worth doing, at all, whether employers like the fact that people decide on employment based on pay, or not. (I find myself surprised every time a business leader expresses reluctance to hire or promote someone who ‘is only doing it for more money’, because… why else would they?)

Seriously? Why else would I be working, if not for money?

Seriously? Why else would I be working, if not for money?

I imagine that employment at some endeavor that is enriching, fulfilling, important to society, people, or life, or work that moves humanity forward in some fashion is less likely to feel as though one is being exploited without regard for one’s own needs in life. The closest I have come to work of that kind was being a soldier at an age when ethics and morality seemed pretty black and white to me, the world seemed simpler with clearly defined good guys and bad guys – and I was mere years from a serious brain injury; I understood myself to be ‘one of the good guys’. My understanding of my role – and my worth – was limited. The most fulfilling work I’ve ever done was in construction, working on paving jobs. Ever after I have driven those roads with wonder and delight, observing that I had a part to play in the quality of the work, and the usefulness of the outcome. It’s a very good feeling. Builders, makers, creators, discoverers, designers, inventors, explorers, doctors, teachers, healers, philosophers,… there are jobs that seem more ‘worthy’ than others, the list goes on. No one ever looked into their parents eyes as a child, earnest about the future, and said ‘Mommy, I want to be trapped in middle management supporting the revenue goals of a large faceless corporation focused on gross margin and exploiting my fellow man for corporate gains I’ll never benefit from myself!”

I feel discontent this morning, in spite of my tasty coffee; I slept restlessly dreaming of work and struggling to let it go and enjoy my time, and my life. Don’t misunderstand me – I’ve got a good job, working for a skilled boss that I respect, for a company that provides a service. The office is clean. The people are human. The environment is generally fairly humane and cheerful. It’s still someone else’s agenda, and I still resent it when the business leans into my time for more than what I have agreed to provide. We’ve built a culture that emphasizes productivity at the expense of the productive; boundary setting by the exploited is negatively reinforced and actively discouraged. The business goal in most businesses seems first and foremost to limit cost as much as possible by hiring fewer, and paying them less, with little regard for cost of living, or whether survival on those wages is even feasible. We rather glibly and without compassion argue in meetings and for publication about what one job or another is ‘worth’ – from a payroll, labor cost, and gross margin perspective, without considering at all what the job is worth from the perspective of what it will cost a human being to give up their life time to do itPeople become an expense, a resource, a commodity… and we’re really not, at all. We’re living beings, with souls, needs, desires of our own – and a limited mortal life to achieve our own ends, and have our own experience. Our lives always have more value than our ‘work’ unless the work we choose to do is something we are truly invested in as a human being, have a passion for, and feel is worthy. There are choices involved – but the game is rigged, and the choice sometimes appears to be ‘work and survive, or don’t and go fuck yourself’.

Adding insult to injury in all this, the very people being exploited sometimes argue against their own benefit, refusing to even consider that perhaps their lives are worth more than they are being offered – and they got there being told all their lives that they have no additional value, by the people who would hire them when they become adults. It’s pretty ugly. Hell yes, technology has the potential to replace people in the workplace – that should be a good thing! Go HOME – live your life! Do great things – because there is greatness within you! YES – the ‘minimum wage’ should be as high as it possibly can be and the expense should come out of the profit margin! Profiting by stealing the life force of others by under-valuing them seems corrupt, immoral, and a willful theft. Standing on a bigger pile of money by paying those we employ so little that they must also get support from the government, move into horrific living conditions, or assemble communally with friends and extended family just to make ends meet seems shameful. I find these common things about work culture actually intensely offensive, myself, and I’m just going to say so. I have yet to see any data that shows a CEO is of more actual productive value than a laborer, or technician, or customer service representative – but they are certainly paid a great deal more to answer their email.

I’m frustrated by being ‘gainfully employed’ at 52. I have – no kidding, I’m serious here – better things to do with my time. Unfortunately, most of them come at a cost that requires some amount of currency just to achieve the day-to-day basics of food & water, shelter, power, electricity…so I make choices to convert some portion of my own life force, and limited mortal lifetime, to the currency I need to manage those details. What I ask in return is to be left the fuck alone by my employer on my time. Yes, I said it – and being salaried, saying so is tantamount to revolt, but it’s a boundary – and it’s my life, and I’ve only agreed to giving up 40 hours each week.

Now if I can just get my own brain to cooperate, to fight through the lifetime of ‘good worker’ programming – because my idea of ‘work-life balance’, is to ensure that my life is always the more important element of my experience, invested in with the entirety of my will and intent, living it engaged in the moment, and filled with joy, love – and growth. There are choices involved, and some of them are mine. “Now” is mine. There is nothing more important that I could do with this moment than live it, on my own terms, with my own goals in mind, meeting my own needs and having my own experience.

See what I’m saying though? Here it is, a lovely relaxed Saturday morning, and resentment over work still has its hooks in me – more than 1500 words worth!!

Moving on to living life.

Moving on to living life.

Today is a good day to let that go, and enjoy the day as a human being. Today is a good day to value myself more than the dollars my efforts represent. Today is a good day to look into the eyes of other human beings, and value them as human beings too – whether they are the barista at a coffee shop, the person pumping gas at the service station, the postal worker dropping off the mail, the handy man in the community, the technical support person on the other end of the phone… each and every one of us, human, each and every one of us worth more than the job we do for the currency we need.