In reviewing all that has happened in the past year and a half it is difficult to distill and find one coherent lesson. It's difficult to make sense of something that occurred randomly and nearly blew my life apart.
As I sift through what happened and my reaction to it, it is my attitude rather than the circumstances that I could have changed. It was a time to concentrate on the light. If I stared into the dark I wouldn't be able to crawl out of bed every morning.
Ironically, at a time when prospects seemed most dim and I felt pressure to be particularly ascetic, disciplined, and diligent, the lesson I learned was that I also needed to savor life a bit. It was difficult to indulge in anything because I felt great economic stress. But I made an effort to enjoy some part of every day.
My budget made it impossible to indulge in much, so I had to seek the pleasures that are free. I loved the extra access to the outdoors. When I was employed full time, I would often resent toiling in a building that sealed out warm Sun and bright light. The opportunity to bask in warmth and light was a blessing.
Its strange because I don't consider myself much of an outdoors person. I tend to prefer traditional indoor activities to outdoor pursuits such as gardening, hiking, or sports. Bouts of skin cancer have also urged me avoid the Sun. But when I was sick it seemed ridiculous to worry about skin cancer anymore. The pleasure I get from the sensation of being warmed by the Sun far outweighs reasons for avoiding it.
As a more practical matter, the lack of work gave me the time to take classes and to figure out some things on my own. This blog was an effort to build my technology skills. I was very fortunate to have an Americorps grant to pay for courses. Otherwise, I might not have been able to enroll.
Looking for work has always been a challenge for me. While I have no difficulty advocating for ideas or other people, I feel uncomfortable promoting myself. In the new work environment where we are supposed to move around every two years, this is a real problem. I'm grateful that I learned how to network a little better. It is something I still have to develop, but I did improve. This led to some interesting freelance work and new business contacts. Now it is up to me to continue building on this foundation.
The lack of purpose and routine that accompanied job loss was eventually replaced with a recognition that my free schedule was an opportunity to invite more unexpected events into my life. This seems obvious in retrospect, but when one is concentrating on the lack of a job the opportunity to pursue the frivolous doesn't seem like the best choice.
The effort to enjoy a part of every day spurred me to grasp the chance to do something new and different. Since I was a child and saw images of ticker tape parades in old films and photographs I have wanted to participate in one of these parades. I had the chance when the Yankees won the World Series. I also accepted a spur of the moment invitation to the US Open on a week day.
Since I didn't have to worry about getting up early to go to work, I was free to take late evening classes to pursue things that interested me but that I wasn't passionate about. This led me to learn the Michael Jackson Thriller dance with a group of strangers. I also finally made the effort to participate in the Halloween and Macy's Thanksgiving parades -- two events I always meant to do but didn't because I would get caught up in work and not realize that the time for the event was approaching. I also scheduled touch tours for my blind friend at the Metropolitan Museum and MOMA, and was able to accompany him on both tours.
This lull was a chance to take advantage of some of the deals I would miss while chained to my desk in an office. On a couple of days I waited for 4-6 hours in a ridiculously long line for $20 opera tickets at the Met. My flexible schedule also enabled me to snag a free Remy eyebrow shaping, Fekkai shampoo, and Origins cleanser.
This odd expanse of unfettered time also revealed to me my strange relationship with time. I now realize the great extent to which my enjoyment of events is damped by anticipation of time constraints. It was wonderful to see friends on weekdays without concern for the clock. We were free to enjoy each others' company without the expectation of cutting the night short to get to bed early.
Similarly, I was able to enjoy reading several dense books while recuperating from illness.
Now I realize how much worrying about schedules and lists of things to do infringes on my enjoyment of my time when I am working. It is as if none of my time is really free. There is always a concern in the back of my mind that doesn't allow me to fully relax.
I also concentrated on the sense of compassion I felt from others. It pleasantly surprised me who offered help and how they offered it. High school classmates that friended me on Facebook gave me work leads although I hadn't seen them in 25 years. My doctors gave me drug samples so I could save money on prescriptions. My dance instructor insisted I continue taking her classes without paying. Friends took me out to lunch and picked up my drink tab.
I suppose the greatest lesson I learned is that I could survive. Unfortunately, I have lived through bad times before. I endured seven miserable years putting myself through college, weathered medical problems, and suffered a lay off and unemployment a decade ago. All of these are events I would rather forget, yet they taught me that I am resilient and can survive tough blows.
For all of these blessings, there are some regrets. My fear led me to cage and punished myself a bit. I was extremely austere. I walked everywhere to save subway fare and cut back on food. Although I had time to take art classes and could have benefited from distraction from stress, I didn't take them because it seemed like an indulgence. I felt guilty about making any art at all, and stopped making it.
My budget made it impossible to indulge in much, so I had to seek the pleasures that are free. I loved the extra access to the outdoors. When I was employed full time, I would often resent toiling in a building that sealed out warm Sun and bright light. The opportunity to bask in warmth and light was a blessing.
Its strange because I don't consider myself much of an outdoors person. I tend to prefer traditional indoor activities to outdoor pursuits such as gardening, hiking, or sports. Bouts of skin cancer have also urged me avoid the Sun. But when I was sick it seemed ridiculous to worry about skin cancer anymore. The pleasure I get from the sensation of being warmed by the Sun far outweighs reasons for avoiding it.
As a more practical matter, the lack of work gave me the time to take classes and to figure out some things on my own. This blog was an effort to build my technology skills. I was very fortunate to have an Americorps grant to pay for courses. Otherwise, I might not have been able to enroll.
Looking for work has always been a challenge for me. While I have no difficulty advocating for ideas or other people, I feel uncomfortable promoting myself. In the new work environment where we are supposed to move around every two years, this is a real problem. I'm grateful that I learned how to network a little better. It is something I still have to develop, but I did improve. This led to some interesting freelance work and new business contacts. Now it is up to me to continue building on this foundation.
The lack of purpose and routine that accompanied job loss was eventually replaced with a recognition that my free schedule was an opportunity to invite more unexpected events into my life. This seems obvious in retrospect, but when one is concentrating on the lack of a job the opportunity to pursue the frivolous doesn't seem like the best choice.
The effort to enjoy a part of every day spurred me to grasp the chance to do something new and different. Since I was a child and saw images of ticker tape parades in old films and photographs I have wanted to participate in one of these parades. I had the chance when the Yankees won the World Series. I also accepted a spur of the moment invitation to the US Open on a week day.
Since I didn't have to worry about getting up early to go to work, I was free to take late evening classes to pursue things that interested me but that I wasn't passionate about. This led me to learn the Michael Jackson Thriller dance with a group of strangers. I also finally made the effort to participate in the Halloween and Macy's Thanksgiving parades -- two events I always meant to do but didn't because I would get caught up in work and not realize that the time for the event was approaching. I also scheduled touch tours for my blind friend at the Metropolitan Museum and MOMA, and was able to accompany him on both tours.
This lull was a chance to take advantage of some of the deals I would miss while chained to my desk in an office. On a couple of days I waited for 4-6 hours in a ridiculously long line for $20 opera tickets at the Met. My flexible schedule also enabled me to snag a free Remy eyebrow shaping, Fekkai shampoo, and Origins cleanser.
This odd expanse of unfettered time also revealed to me my strange relationship with time. I now realize the great extent to which my enjoyment of events is damped by anticipation of time constraints. It was wonderful to see friends on weekdays without concern for the clock. We were free to enjoy each others' company without the expectation of cutting the night short to get to bed early.
Similarly, I was able to enjoy reading several dense books while recuperating from illness.
Now I realize how much worrying about schedules and lists of things to do infringes on my enjoyment of my time when I am working. It is as if none of my time is really free. There is always a concern in the back of my mind that doesn't allow me to fully relax.
I also concentrated on the sense of compassion I felt from others. It pleasantly surprised me who offered help and how they offered it. High school classmates that friended me on Facebook gave me work leads although I hadn't seen them in 25 years. My doctors gave me drug samples so I could save money on prescriptions. My dance instructor insisted I continue taking her classes without paying. Friends took me out to lunch and picked up my drink tab.
On the one hand, I felt embarrassed to accept charity from my friends. On the other, I recognized that I would do (and have done) the same for them. In fact, it sometimes came to light that the "unlikely" people who helped me had received favors from me in the past and I had forgotten about it.
Experiencing this kindness had a profound effect on me. I'm sorry that it was necessary that I be in such a position to receive these blessings, but I am also relieved that the world is more benevolent than I expected it to be. Now I am consciously focusing on developing more compassion for others. I doubt any of my friends think I owe them something. Instead, I am very eager to pick up the tab for any friend who is looking for work.
I suppose the greatest lesson I learned is that I could survive. Unfortunately, I have lived through bad times before. I endured seven miserable years putting myself through college, weathered medical problems, and suffered a lay off and unemployment a decade ago. All of these are events I would rather forget, yet they taught me that I am resilient and can survive tough blows.
For all of these blessings, there are some regrets. My fear led me to cage and punished myself a bit. I was extremely austere. I walked everywhere to save subway fare and cut back on food. Although I had time to take art classes and could have benefited from distraction from stress, I didn't take them because it seemed like an indulgence. I felt guilty about making any art at all, and stopped making it.
As I pushed myself into these corners, it felt as if my personality had ceased to exist. It went underground and I walked around like a purposeless ghost. I played the role of someone I thought I should be and thus became invisible.
In retrospect this was a big mistake, and I'm glad my illness lessened the grip of this misguided notion. Jobs rob us of time and personal pursuits. Our personalities are suppressed each day we don a professional demeanor.
Near the end of my unemployment, I read an anecdote about American painter Charles Burchfield. While in ill health, he noticed a leaf that had landed upright in the neighbor's lawn and escaped fall raking. All through the winter, he monitored this leaf to see whether it had survived another day of gales and snowstorms.
Near the end of my unemployment, I read an anecdote about American painter Charles Burchfield. While in ill health, he noticed a leaf that had landed upright in the neighbor's lawn and escaped fall raking. All through the winter, he monitored this leaf to see whether it had survived another day of gales and snowstorms.
"For me it has become a sort of symbol or example -- as it clings so stubbornly, so must I 'hang on' through this illness which has lasted so long. I have moments of utter despair, and then I look out and I see this little oak-leaf, my little friend. Each morning I look for it and it is always there." (letter 1957)
He made a painting of the courageous leaf. His wife later framed the leaf and hung it in his studio. When I read this story, I felt the presence of a kindered spirit.
Posts
