Simplicity and Spirituality.
(I intended to post this on Plethora, but since it delves a bit into my work-life, I decided to post it locked.)
(I will preface this to say that while I believe in God, I realize not everyone does. So please take my talk of 'God' as God-in-general, not one specific God.)
I grew up Catholic. But even growing up Catholic, there were some things in the church I disagreed with, and some things I really didn't see the point in, and some things I could identify with, and others that just didn't make sense. I went to Mass every single Sunday, and felt guilty when I missed, although at one point, I hated to go because that pulled me away from other stuff. Eventually, I drifted away from going to Mass. But I didn't drift away from certain ideas that have sustained me my whole life--certain teachings, I suppose.
Lately, for various reasons, I've been reading a few books I wouldn't necessarily have read a year or so ago. I've been attempting to find meaning in a world that seems very out-of-step with reality. I've been reading to find my way through what seems to be the thicket of modern life; among the thorns are the expectations society pins on us and expects us to conform to. A big part of that is my day job. In March of last year, my office closed and we were consolidated downtown. That meant an extra-long commute, and paying for parking as well as city taxes, not to mention extra wear and tear on my car.
I calculated the extra expense of working downtown a few weeks ago. Not counting wear and tear on my car (that's more of an amorphous figure, all considering), it costs me--out of pocket--$3,000 a year to work downtown. Needless to say, I did not get a $3,000 a year raise when we moved.
Before we moved, here was the plan: I would pay off my car, then use that money to pay off my credit cards. Once my credit cards were paid off, I'd concentrate on the mortgage. Once that was paid off, I'd find a part-time job and spend my days puttering about and writing my books and doing what I wanted. (And doing what I want isn't entirely selfish; I'd really like to be more involved in my community. I may be an introvert, but I am so introverted at home because I can't be introverted at work. And since work takes so much out of me, my time at home is my alone-time.)
Well, that extra $3,000/year expense put a bit of a wrench in my plans. In fact, it was more of a massive plan failure, because not only was I gone from the house almost twelve hours a day, I was stressed due to work-related stuff I won't get into right now, we were also having to take ten unpaid vacation days a year, and due to interest rate hikes, I'd gotten behind on the credit card payments. It wasn't a nice spring or summer. And I realized that something (although I wasn't sure what) needed to change.
At one point, I realized that if I wanted to stay at the day job and have a clean enough house and keep up my yard, then I needed to completely cease all hobbies and pastimes, including writing.
And at that point, I also realized that if I decided to do that, then I might as well just curl up somewhere and die, because I equate writing to breathing, and honestly? If I'm forced to become a person who comes home from work, sits in front of the TV (or computer), goes to bed, wakes up, goes to work, and then repeats the cycle the next day and the next and the next and the next, then I might as well be dead.
There is no joy in it. Those words kept circling through my head. I get up in the morning to go to work. There is no joy in it. It's just something I have to do.
So I sat down and decided to make a list about what made me happy. What made me joyful. What put me in the "zone" without fail. What did I really and honestly like to do?
And--the kicker--how could I make that my "day job"?
I realized right away that I my vow of not using my credit cards (over two years strong) could not be broken. And I also realized that I needed to look at what I owned and what I intended to keep and ask myself a few pertinent questions, like Is this item moving me towards my goal or preventing me from reaching my goal? And I also needed to ask that question with everything I wanted to buy or considered purchasing.
But then I realized how many times I've tried this sort of cold-turkey stuff, and how many times I've failed, because I will buy something I don't really need and get frustrated, and then toss the whole thing because I slipped up once or twice or even three times. That it really wasn't what I bought that I needed to examine. It was what I kept.
During this time, I kept reading. I'd order books (used if possible) because my local library is not open when I'm home, and if I'm home, on many days I'd rather not even leave the house. So I ordered books and I read them and I pondered.
I know my vocation: writing the stories that reside in my head. Putting them down "on paper", come hell or high water, no matter what. Left to my own devices, I would always rather write than do anything else.
Even if I never made another dime writing, I would still write. It's that simple. The money doesn't matter to me. The stories are what matter, and what have always mattered. And I would rather die than abandon them. Period.
So the question remained: How to turn the tide? How to make what I love to do (my hobbies and my vocation) pay? My rule has always been that hobbies have to pay for themselves, at least in supplies, but how to make them pay more? Especially since I'm still working the day job, and still away from my house almost twelve hours a day?
And I realized that the easiest way for me to make extra money would be to honestly look at my house full of possessions--some of them dear to my heart--and honestly decide whether or not I need to keep them.
Around that same time, I decided to give up clutter for Lent this year. And by clutter, I mean stacks, and piles, and stuff. Because one thing I do want to do is cut down on the time it takes me to actually clean in this house, which means cutting down on the amount of stuff contained within each and every room so that each room is easier to clean.
And everything is included in the definition of stuff.
And I began to get a glimmering of what I needed to do.
I believe we live in a very wasteful society. If something doesn't fit; if something cracks or breaks, we just throw it away without any thought of what happens to it once it hits the garbage can. We think nothing of spending $600 for a flat screen TV, or $3,000 to work in an office far from home. Our houses are full of stuff, some of which we don't ever use, but own "just in case." We work, sleep, attempt to keep up with the news, and find less and less time to do the things that once brought us joy; once brought us peace.
I've been reading a little book called The Gift of Simplicity by Brother Victor-Antoine D'Avila-Latourrette, of the Monastery cookbooks fame. It's an interesting read; coming from a monk's point of view. Last night, I read the chapter entitled Simplicity and Work, which I had to read twice, then three times, because it struck a chord in my heart so strongly that I felt as if someone had shaken me to my core. I'm going to quote a bit of it here, and I'm sure you'll see why I've chosen these passages: (And yes, I realize that by choosing these, I am excerpting more than you're really allowed to excerpt. I hope no one minds. I feel they are very important passages. My apologies.)
"Today, the concept of work is grossly misinterpreted. It is no longer simple a means of humbly supporting oneself. Guided by the false values of a culture that places so much emphasis on greed, materialism, self-fulfillment, possessions, and pleasure, human work has in some cases been transformed into something of a monstrosity. In the past, human work was able to safeguard its own dignity by placing the emphasis on the fact that one worked in order to live. Today the reverse is true; we live to work, motivated by the desire to achieve and obtain all the things mentioned above."
"In the past, human work was looked upon as necessary for supporting oneself and one's family. Today work is seen more of a career, a way to success, a means of becoming wealthier and possessing more. Often, greed is the ultimate goal. How, otherwise, can we justify the obscene salaries of the so-called CEOs of our times when others don't earn the minimum for human subsistence?"
"An important factor to keep in mind is that there must be a certain harmony between our work and the rest of our dail living. It is not unusual to hear someone sa, "I hate my job... I don't know why I stay with it." Sadly enough, we can be tempted to sacrifice happiness and well-being for purely materialistic or advantageous reasons. In such cases, inward simplicity can come to our help, inspiring us to re-evaluate our priorities and make the right choices so that we can coordinate our work with our own personal lives. Work, somehow, must be incorporated and made to fit harmoniously with the rest of life, not to exist in opposition of it."
"If a certain job or type of work is harmful to our spiritual lives, I would say without hesitation, "Quit it; leave it." One of the aspects to watch for is the right use of time. No point in wasting time or energies in something that brings our own spiritual ruin."
"We must never be consumed by our work."
I am able to do some of the things that I like to do because I decided, long ago, that I would not betray myself to abandon them. I've come close--as you see above when I realized the true cost of working so far away. I hear time and time again that I must be some sort of superwoman to be able to write, garden, bake, make stuff from scratch, craft, etc., etc., and still have a day job.
It's come to the point where I realize that having this particular day job just isn't working anymore. Before, when we could flex our schedules and work four 10-hour days, or when I could get to work earlier, or when I only worked twelve miles from home, work was not an all-encompassing thing, it was an enjoyable enough means to an end. I still had time to have a life outside of work. And I had time to allow myself to grow in knowledge, faith, and understanding.
Right now, I come home, feed the outside cats and dog, fix something for supper, check my email and Ravelry, write a little, maybe wash a few dishes, and then it's time for bed. And then the next morning, I wake up and do it all over again. Sometimes I'll stop at the grocery store on the way home, or at Mom and Dad's house, which pushes everything farther away. If I'm not in bed by 10pm, I'll pay for it the next morning. And every morning, I see the same cars doing the same commute, and I feel less and less in control of my life.
There is no joy in it.
Thirteen years ago, I moved from my parents' house over a hundred miles away to Columbus. A month after I moved, I got a job. As jobs go, it wasn't a terrible job, nor was it a great job. But I enjoyed it enough, until it got to the point where I could never get to work on time due to construction and traffic, and some nights, I'd get home at 7:30pm due to traffic, after leaving work at 5pm. It was 25 miles away from our apartment, and it had a complete and utter hell of a commute.
I lasted a little over a year, and then I found a job five miles away from the apartment, working for the State. Again, it wasn't a terrible job or a great job, but it was an interesting job, and I had a lot more freedom in that job than I did in the other, not to mention more time, less stress, and a lot shorter commute. Considering that was right around the time I'd blown the lid of secrecy off my ex-idiot's abuse, I needed that kind of day job.
Now--now, I've begun to realize that to me, what I do here at home is more important than any job will ever be. And that it's vitally important for me to be able to turn the tide, because if I am unable to do so, I'm afraid that my desire to be here living my true-life will begin to bleed into my work-life and the two won't get along very well.
It has become the highest priority for me to find a new day job. I applied for one at the local library a week ago, which eliminates that $3,000 from my paycheck since it's less money, but since I don't have it now, will I miss it? I doubt it. While I would still be commuting 30 miles per day (one way), I'd also have a better chance at eventually going down to part-time, since they have part-time positions.
But I am not pinning all my hopes on this one job. I'm going to keep looking (there's another one open with the next county over that pays even less but is even closer (about 25 miles) and would probably be interesting that I will probably apply for as well.) I'm also going to take my pledge of giving up clutter for Lent a bit farther--I'm giving up extras as well.
I've reopened my Etsy shop, and plan on updating it every two weeks at minimum. I'll also be posting auctions on ebay every two weeks at minimum. The extras that will be leaving include spinning wheels, of course; I've decided that I want my freedom more than I want something else to dust--or collect.
The goal: To pay off the credit cards, starting with the smallest one at $750.
The goal: To create a Roof Fund for the repair of the kitchen roof; goal approximately $1500.
The goal: To watch what I spend. Not to stop spending (although during Lent I will be observing Buy Nothing Lent as well, with one caveat that if the item can be resold for a profit quickly, it's fair game), but to watch what I spend.
The Goal: To be able to live a quiet life in solitary contemplation of the natural world around me. To write the stories that reside in my head. To share my love of what I do with others. To bake good bread, and expand my cooking and baking abilities. To live quietly and humbly and simply, wanting nothing, because everything I want I already possess. To find a day job that reflects my love of learning, is interesting, and more active so I am not sitting in front of a computer all day long. To never have to drive downtown again, unless I want to do it. To balance work with my personal life and not feel as if that's an impossible task. To be able to live on less and with less and to share what I do have with those who have not. To love more. To laugh more. To stop and smell the roses, or the dirt, or the fresh tomato straight from the vine. To be more alive.
I'm not going to wait until Lent to start this; it begins now.
(I will preface this to say that while I believe in God, I realize not everyone does. So please take my talk of 'God' as God-in-general, not one specific God.)
I grew up Catholic. But even growing up Catholic, there were some things in the church I disagreed with, and some things I really didn't see the point in, and some things I could identify with, and others that just didn't make sense. I went to Mass every single Sunday, and felt guilty when I missed, although at one point, I hated to go because that pulled me away from other stuff. Eventually, I drifted away from going to Mass. But I didn't drift away from certain ideas that have sustained me my whole life--certain teachings, I suppose.
Lately, for various reasons, I've been reading a few books I wouldn't necessarily have read a year or so ago. I've been attempting to find meaning in a world that seems very out-of-step with reality. I've been reading to find my way through what seems to be the thicket of modern life; among the thorns are the expectations society pins on us and expects us to conform to. A big part of that is my day job. In March of last year, my office closed and we were consolidated downtown. That meant an extra-long commute, and paying for parking as well as city taxes, not to mention extra wear and tear on my car.
I calculated the extra expense of working downtown a few weeks ago. Not counting wear and tear on my car (that's more of an amorphous figure, all considering), it costs me--out of pocket--$3,000 a year to work downtown. Needless to say, I did not get a $3,000 a year raise when we moved.
Before we moved, here was the plan: I would pay off my car, then use that money to pay off my credit cards. Once my credit cards were paid off, I'd concentrate on the mortgage. Once that was paid off, I'd find a part-time job and spend my days puttering about and writing my books and doing what I wanted. (And doing what I want isn't entirely selfish; I'd really like to be more involved in my community. I may be an introvert, but I am so introverted at home because I can't be introverted at work. And since work takes so much out of me, my time at home is my alone-time.)
Well, that extra $3,000/year expense put a bit of a wrench in my plans. In fact, it was more of a massive plan failure, because not only was I gone from the house almost twelve hours a day, I was stressed due to work-related stuff I won't get into right now, we were also having to take ten unpaid vacation days a year, and due to interest rate hikes, I'd gotten behind on the credit card payments. It wasn't a nice spring or summer. And I realized that something (although I wasn't sure what) needed to change.
At one point, I realized that if I wanted to stay at the day job and have a clean enough house and keep up my yard, then I needed to completely cease all hobbies and pastimes, including writing.
And at that point, I also realized that if I decided to do that, then I might as well just curl up somewhere and die, because I equate writing to breathing, and honestly? If I'm forced to become a person who comes home from work, sits in front of the TV (or computer), goes to bed, wakes up, goes to work, and then repeats the cycle the next day and the next and the next and the next, then I might as well be dead.
There is no joy in it. Those words kept circling through my head. I get up in the morning to go to work. There is no joy in it. It's just something I have to do.
So I sat down and decided to make a list about what made me happy. What made me joyful. What put me in the "zone" without fail. What did I really and honestly like to do?
And--the kicker--how could I make that my "day job"?
I realized right away that I my vow of not using my credit cards (over two years strong) could not be broken. And I also realized that I needed to look at what I owned and what I intended to keep and ask myself a few pertinent questions, like Is this item moving me towards my goal or preventing me from reaching my goal? And I also needed to ask that question with everything I wanted to buy or considered purchasing.
But then I realized how many times I've tried this sort of cold-turkey stuff, and how many times I've failed, because I will buy something I don't really need and get frustrated, and then toss the whole thing because I slipped up once or twice or even three times. That it really wasn't what I bought that I needed to examine. It was what I kept.
During this time, I kept reading. I'd order books (used if possible) because my local library is not open when I'm home, and if I'm home, on many days I'd rather not even leave the house. So I ordered books and I read them and I pondered.
I know my vocation: writing the stories that reside in my head. Putting them down "on paper", come hell or high water, no matter what. Left to my own devices, I would always rather write than do anything else.
Even if I never made another dime writing, I would still write. It's that simple. The money doesn't matter to me. The stories are what matter, and what have always mattered. And I would rather die than abandon them. Period.
So the question remained: How to turn the tide? How to make what I love to do (my hobbies and my vocation) pay? My rule has always been that hobbies have to pay for themselves, at least in supplies, but how to make them pay more? Especially since I'm still working the day job, and still away from my house almost twelve hours a day?
And I realized that the easiest way for me to make extra money would be to honestly look at my house full of possessions--some of them dear to my heart--and honestly decide whether or not I need to keep them.
Around that same time, I decided to give up clutter for Lent this year. And by clutter, I mean stacks, and piles, and stuff. Because one thing I do want to do is cut down on the time it takes me to actually clean in this house, which means cutting down on the amount of stuff contained within each and every room so that each room is easier to clean.
And everything is included in the definition of stuff.
And I began to get a glimmering of what I needed to do.
I believe we live in a very wasteful society. If something doesn't fit; if something cracks or breaks, we just throw it away without any thought of what happens to it once it hits the garbage can. We think nothing of spending $600 for a flat screen TV, or $3,000 to work in an office far from home. Our houses are full of stuff, some of which we don't ever use, but own "just in case." We work, sleep, attempt to keep up with the news, and find less and less time to do the things that once brought us joy; once brought us peace.
I've been reading a little book called The Gift of Simplicity by Brother Victor-Antoine D'Avila-Latourrette, of the Monastery cookbooks fame. It's an interesting read; coming from a monk's point of view. Last night, I read the chapter entitled Simplicity and Work, which I had to read twice, then three times, because it struck a chord in my heart so strongly that I felt as if someone had shaken me to my core. I'm going to quote a bit of it here, and I'm sure you'll see why I've chosen these passages: (And yes, I realize that by choosing these, I am excerpting more than you're really allowed to excerpt. I hope no one minds. I feel they are very important passages. My apologies.)
"Today, the concept of work is grossly misinterpreted. It is no longer simple a means of humbly supporting oneself. Guided by the false values of a culture that places so much emphasis on greed, materialism, self-fulfillment, possessions, and pleasure, human work has in some cases been transformed into something of a monstrosity. In the past, human work was able to safeguard its own dignity by placing the emphasis on the fact that one worked in order to live. Today the reverse is true; we live to work, motivated by the desire to achieve and obtain all the things mentioned above."
"In the past, human work was looked upon as necessary for supporting oneself and one's family. Today work is seen more of a career, a way to success, a means of becoming wealthier and possessing more. Often, greed is the ultimate goal. How, otherwise, can we justify the obscene salaries of the so-called CEOs of our times when others don't earn the minimum for human subsistence?"
"An important factor to keep in mind is that there must be a certain harmony between our work and the rest of our dail living. It is not unusual to hear someone sa, "I hate my job... I don't know why I stay with it." Sadly enough, we can be tempted to sacrifice happiness and well-being for purely materialistic or advantageous reasons. In such cases, inward simplicity can come to our help, inspiring us to re-evaluate our priorities and make the right choices so that we can coordinate our work with our own personal lives. Work, somehow, must be incorporated and made to fit harmoniously with the rest of life, not to exist in opposition of it."
"If a certain job or type of work is harmful to our spiritual lives, I would say without hesitation, "Quit it; leave it." One of the aspects to watch for is the right use of time. No point in wasting time or energies in something that brings our own spiritual ruin."
"We must never be consumed by our work."
I am able to do some of the things that I like to do because I decided, long ago, that I would not betray myself to abandon them. I've come close--as you see above when I realized the true cost of working so far away. I hear time and time again that I must be some sort of superwoman to be able to write, garden, bake, make stuff from scratch, craft, etc., etc., and still have a day job.
It's come to the point where I realize that having this particular day job just isn't working anymore. Before, when we could flex our schedules and work four 10-hour days, or when I could get to work earlier, or when I only worked twelve miles from home, work was not an all-encompassing thing, it was an enjoyable enough means to an end. I still had time to have a life outside of work. And I had time to allow myself to grow in knowledge, faith, and understanding.
Right now, I come home, feed the outside cats and dog, fix something for supper, check my email and Ravelry, write a little, maybe wash a few dishes, and then it's time for bed. And then the next morning, I wake up and do it all over again. Sometimes I'll stop at the grocery store on the way home, or at Mom and Dad's house, which pushes everything farther away. If I'm not in bed by 10pm, I'll pay for it the next morning. And every morning, I see the same cars doing the same commute, and I feel less and less in control of my life.
There is no joy in it.
Thirteen years ago, I moved from my parents' house over a hundred miles away to Columbus. A month after I moved, I got a job. As jobs go, it wasn't a terrible job, nor was it a great job. But I enjoyed it enough, until it got to the point where I could never get to work on time due to construction and traffic, and some nights, I'd get home at 7:30pm due to traffic, after leaving work at 5pm. It was 25 miles away from our apartment, and it had a complete and utter hell of a commute.
I lasted a little over a year, and then I found a job five miles away from the apartment, working for the State. Again, it wasn't a terrible job or a great job, but it was an interesting job, and I had a lot more freedom in that job than I did in the other, not to mention more time, less stress, and a lot shorter commute. Considering that was right around the time I'd blown the lid of secrecy off my ex-idiot's abuse, I needed that kind of day job.
Now--now, I've begun to realize that to me, what I do here at home is more important than any job will ever be. And that it's vitally important for me to be able to turn the tide, because if I am unable to do so, I'm afraid that my desire to be here living my true-life will begin to bleed into my work-life and the two won't get along very well.
It has become the highest priority for me to find a new day job. I applied for one at the local library a week ago, which eliminates that $3,000 from my paycheck since it's less money, but since I don't have it now, will I miss it? I doubt it. While I would still be commuting 30 miles per day (one way), I'd also have a better chance at eventually going down to part-time, since they have part-time positions.
But I am not pinning all my hopes on this one job. I'm going to keep looking (there's another one open with the next county over that pays even less but is even closer (about 25 miles) and would probably be interesting that I will probably apply for as well.) I'm also going to take my pledge of giving up clutter for Lent a bit farther--I'm giving up extras as well.
I've reopened my Etsy shop, and plan on updating it every two weeks at minimum. I'll also be posting auctions on ebay every two weeks at minimum. The extras that will be leaving include spinning wheels, of course; I've decided that I want my freedom more than I want something else to dust--or collect.
The goal: To pay off the credit cards, starting with the smallest one at $750.
The goal: To create a Roof Fund for the repair of the kitchen roof; goal approximately $1500.
The goal: To watch what I spend. Not to stop spending (although during Lent I will be observing Buy Nothing Lent as well, with one caveat that if the item can be resold for a profit quickly, it's fair game), but to watch what I spend.
The Goal: To be able to live a quiet life in solitary contemplation of the natural world around me. To write the stories that reside in my head. To share my love of what I do with others. To bake good bread, and expand my cooking and baking abilities. To live quietly and humbly and simply, wanting nothing, because everything I want I already possess. To find a day job that reflects my love of learning, is interesting, and more active so I am not sitting in front of a computer all day long. To never have to drive downtown again, unless I want to do it. To balance work with my personal life and not feel as if that's an impossible task. To be able to live on less and with less and to share what I do have with those who have not. To love more. To laugh more. To stop and smell the roses, or the dirt, or the fresh tomato straight from the vine. To be more alive.
I'm not going to wait until Lent to start this; it begins now.