Living to Work, Working to Live

Long ago and far away I was a fresh-faced youngster, chomping at the bit to join the work force, earn my own money, and really make my mark on the world. I babysat and mowed lawns until I was sixteen and could work at a ‘real’ job, which in that day and age meant waiting on tables and working at the Doubleday book factory in the next town until I graduated from high school.

I worked part time while attending university and I’ve been working full time, part time, or a combination of both ever since. Trust me, that’s a long time, a very long time that I have spent in making money and paying my own way.

Of course when I was younger, earning a living was what I did, and it never occurred to me that I wouldn’t work. Naturally I thought I was indispensable. The office would fall apart if I wasn’t there, I thought about work on weekends, and of course overtime presented no difficulties. It just provided me with the opportunity to earn a little more money and at the same time demonstrate to my boss my value and willingness to tackle anything and get the job done right.

As a young adult, I lived to work. Work took top priority, as I had a lot of ground to cover and a lot to prove to anyone who cared to notice. I thought nothing of working a full time job and three part time jobs. Wow, just call me Super Woman.

Eventually of course I grew up. Eventually of course the novelty of work turned into a necessity to work. Further down the road and through the years my attitude has changed, priorities have shifted, and I look at work now through less than rose-colored glasses.

What a difference age and experience makes in a life. Now I work to live. Distressingly, I like to eat and I like to be warm in winter, so these unfortunate habits require that I continue to work. However, I eat less now than I did as a young adult and I can toss another stick of wood onto the fire in winter; I don’t want as many gadgets as I did as a young adult, so I no longer need to work a full time job and as many part time jobs as I can stuff into a day. So at least I can cut back on work. I just gave up a part time job because I no longer want to work full time and part time. One job is quite enough, thank you very much.

I watch people die from stress and work-related causes, I see people grow old working and then have no time or energy to actually live, and I think about the ironic nature of work. We work so we have a nice house to come home to and enjoy, yet we are never at home because we are always working to have a nice house to come home to. Something doesn’t make sense with that picture, and it took me a lot of years to figure out that life consists of more than earning a living. It took me a long time to shift in priority and realize that home is truly a great place to be. That’s where my books sit in stacks waiting for me to read them, that’s where the garden is, that’s where my bike waits patiently, home is where I can find all the little hobbies and chores that give me pleasure, so why on earth do I want to leave home to go to work?

Oh yes, that’s right, back to that disgusting problem of having to eat and stay warm in winter.

I think as we age, we realize that yes indeed we ARE mortal, of course the workplace will survive quite well without us, and that no one is indispensable. This realization enables us to slow down, work smarter not harder, and to realize that we want more out of life than trudging to work every day. Time grows short, I have far too many books yet to read and I want to have time to spend in pleasurable activities with my better half. These priorities sound like far better ways to pass the time than does the never-ending need to earn a living. Besides, I have earned a living for a LONG time, a depressingly long time, and it is time for a little less work and a lot more fun.