When I left home, I took a job working in the woods building hiking trails. Then I went to college, but after two quarters, I fled to the woods again to work on forest fire crew. I gave college a few more quarters, and then dropped out and headed for Colorado where I washed dishes in a resort restaurant in the afternoon and evening, hung out in the restaurant bar with my friends until closing, and then got up in the morning to ski until it was time to go back to work (oh, to be 20 again). I once overheard my mother say to my aunt, who had asked her what she thought of all my adventures, “Oh, you know, she’s just determined to not get a job like all the other girls.”
My mother thought that when I grew up, I should live in an apartment in the city, work in an office, and drive a little red sports car. She even had a wardrobe (that included skirts and heels) and hairstyle in mind for me. When I expressed an interest in writing, she suggested I marry a writer or an editor. None of that sounded all too healthy to me.
What Are You Working On? is a community forum for all things hand-made, home-made, and creative in a variety of mediums.
Join me below the representation of a twisted expectation for more:
When I finally finished college, I did the city and office thing for a while, living in a cramped, ground floor apartment overlooking a parking lot and relying on public transportation, but I didn’t last. I fled to a fishing boat in Alaska, and came home with enough money to buy a small house in a small town. A little blue pickup truck was my vehicle of choice. I painted houses and fences, mowed lawns, planted trees and shrubs, hauled garbage—basically taking any job I could get my grubby hands on. I even went out fishing again, locally, on a smaller boat.
All along the way, I taught myself how to knit, quilt, spin wool, cook more interesting and healthy meals than I grew up with, and use tools so I could take on minor household repairs. I’ve spent a lot of time going from one extreme to the other as I strive to strike a sort of balance between the physical and mental and find contentment that goes deeper than my mother’s vision of my future.
My quest has meant that I not only never get quite close to her ideas for my working life, but no where near what she hoped I'd be wearing, either. The offices I have worked in have relaxed dress codes, which suits me fine because clean and casual is about as dressed up as I ever get, and even then I’m in the habit of wiping my hands on my pants when I’m cooking or weeding. I don't think the heels I chose are what she had in mind.
Eventually, I found my way back to an office job, but just over a year ago, I left and started working from home. It depends on my mood and the weather, but now when I take a break from staring at a computer monitor for too long, or I get to the point of hair-tearing frustration, or I’ve been relying on the internet as a diversion from work a little too much (thank you DK community), instead of heading for the nearest coffee shop for a caffeine/sugar fix, I get up and go do something physical or switch to a task that requires me to use my mind and creativity in a different way (and yeah, sometimes I head to the kitchen for a caffeine/sugar fix).
I discover solutions to problems that I had been beating my head against when I push them to the back of my mind while I tease out wool at my spinning wheel. Getting outside to pull weeds or stack firewood gives me the chance to clear my head and come back fresh. Often at the end of the day, when all the animals (horses, chickens, kids) have been fed, I pick up my latest knitting project or sew a few squares for a quilt together or get back to some home DIY home improvement project (or I end up back on the internet yakking with folks like you).
Granted, hands-on projects don’t always bring peace of mind, something I realize as I tear out rows of knitting, or when the sewing machine is creating snarls instead of neat lines of stitching, or when the wood I’m chopping is too knotty or gnarled to split easily, or when my neck is aching and I’m wondering what in the heck I was thinking when I took on a project that has me sanding on the ceiling.
While frustration with projects that rely heavily on sitting and using brain power may often be relieved with some physical work, frustration with manual tasks takes a different approach.
For times like those, I keep this bit of wisdom in mind: Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water; after enlightenment, chop wood, carry water—but go relax with a good book and a glass of wine if it’s not going quite the way you hoped.”
~~~~~
Your turn: What are you working on? How’s that search for some sort of balance going for you?