Work-Life Balance from Different Angles

In the past several weeks, when I've been with friends, talk has turned to work, and what we should do with their rest of our lives.

I have several friends who seem to be at the same point.  They sense that one era of their career life has passed, and they're sorting out what should come next.  One friend could keep doing what she's doing, but she's getting increasingly crabby.  One friend hated her last job so much that she just quit without a plan.

Of course, I have other friends who are terrified that the jobs that they love will be taken from them.

I have one friend who loves what she's doing and wants to do it for the rest of her life, but maybe in a different setting.

I have several friends who would love to retire, except we're far too young.

I ate lunch with one friend yesterday who looked at me like I had grown an additional arm when I said, "I wish I could just retire."

She said, "But what would you do with the rest of your life?"

I said that I'd write and work on other creative projects.  She asked, "But could you really do that for the rest of your life?  That's a long time."

I said, "Well, I've spent the last 40 years of my life working on my own creative projects, and I haven't lost interest yet.  So, yes, I could see myself doing my own creative work for the rest of my life.  That would sustain me."

I haven't figured out a way yet for my creative projects to support me financially, but my creative life sustains me intellectually and emotionally.  I was surprised that she was so surprised to find that out.

Maybe one reason why her work life has been so unfulfilling is that she's expected so much of it, and thus, her individual jobs have disappointed.  Whereas I have aspects of my work life, in all its incarnations, that have been fulfilling, but it's never been my be-all and end-all.

And maybe my creative life has continued to be nourishing because it has never had to be my be-all and end-all.  I've always had to balance it with my work life and other obligations.

It's a work-life balance issue that doesn't often find its way into national discussions.

How Many Mosquito Nets Could Your Beer Budget Buy?

During the 4th of July, during a lovely afternoon in the pool, talk turned towards pricey vehicles.  During one day of the last week of school, we'd heard not one, but several people talk of high end vehicles that they'd bought or planned to buy.

My friend said, "Just think about how many hungry children you could feed with that money."


Let me pause here to note that I didn't introduce the social justice turn into the conversation. But once she steered it that way I could not resist.

I had mosquito nets on the brain, since we spent last week raising money to buy them during our Vacation Bible School.  I said, "A mosquito net that protects a child from malaria costs just $4. How many children could we save with our monthly beer budget?"

There was resistance. I knew there would be. I don't want to give up my wine either. My friend said, "Yeah, but a Lexus costs, what, $40,000? That's a lot more than my beer budget!"

I gently pointed out that people drive their cars for many years. How much do we spend on alcohol every year?

My friends conceded my point. I offered to take alcohol money and transform it into mosquito netting if anyone wanted--money laundering of a different sort! The talk moved on to other subjects.

I'm not going into details here--my mom might read this blog!--but suffice it to say, if we donated just half of our alcohol budgets to buy mosquito nets, we'd save a great many children. And we'd be healthier in all sorts of ways.

We could also think about our charitable giving in terms of our retirement plans.  In Colossians Remixed: Subverting the Empire (a theological book I highly recommend), Brian J. Walsh and Sylvia C. Keesmaat have this interesting approach to charitable giving: "One guidepost we work with is that if we ever find in a given year that we have invested more in our won future by way of retirement savings than we have given away for someone else's present need, there is something terribly wrong. We tend to think the ratio should be at least two to one: for every dollar we invest in retirement savings, two dollars should be given away to an agency that will serve the poor" (page 189).


They have solid theological reasons for their giving, but even my atheist friends feel a strong yearning to bring some justice into this lopsided world.  Most of us have plenty of money that we could be giving away to help bring some balance.  And it's so sobering to realize how far a small amount of money can go, especially in non-industrialized parts of the world.

Once upon a time, I set up all my charitable giving to happen automatically, and then I didn't have to give it much thought unless special fund drives came up.  But earlier this year, my credit card was stolen, and I'm still trying to get my spending back in balance.  I'm spending too much on discretionary items, like beer and books, and not enough on social justice.

Today is the birthday of the Dalai Lama, a good day to recalibrate my spending towards justice.  Our family budgets say so much about us.  I want my family budget to say something different:  fewer items that will be consumed and then forgotten, more mosquito nets!

Chairman Mao Caps and Communist Conquests

Last week, a child came to Vacation Bible School wearing a Chairman Mao cap:  olive green with a red star.  I thought about Communism and Capitalism and all the spectres of my youth that no longer haunt us. 

Or do they?

During the Cold War years, my father and I got into philosophical discussions/arguments about what Communist regimes offer and threaten, and what Capitalism offers.  We were both right, in our ways.  I liked the security that I thought that Communism offers:  no one goes hungry.  They may not have freedom of speech, but at least they have freedom from hunger.  That's what I huffily told my father.

Ah, youth.  How nice to be forgiven for one's know-it-all 19 year old self.

Now, of course, we know that under many a Communist regime, many went hungry together.  Not as much class stratification, perhaps, but far from the utopia that my 19 year old self envisioned.

During the same week that I saw the child in the Chairman Mao cap, I had a discussion with a friend about her family's immigration path.  She comes from a family who immigrated from China to Jamaica, a part of World History that had eluded me.  I didn't realize, until I met my friend, how many Jamaicans of Chinese descent there are.

But her story takes an even more interesting turn.  Her parents went to Canada in the 70's so that if Jamaica fell to the Communists, the rest of the family would have connections in Canada and fleeing the island might be easier.

Yes, let that rest in your brain for a minute:  if Jamaica fell to the Communists . . .

It's easy to laugh now.  We forget how frightening that specter would have been, how realistic it seemed. After all, Nicaragua had fallen.  Cuba had fallen much earlier.  It would not be inconceivable to lose the whole Caribbean to the Communists.

My students laugh when I tell them that President Reagan used to inform us that the Communists had plans to invade the U.S. across the Rio Grande.  If we didn't stop them in El Salvador, we'd have to stop them at the Texas border.

Now we have border battles of different sorts.  Now we worry about a different set of dominoes.

At times, I feel oddly nostalgic for the Cold War days.  It seemed easier then, with enemy lines more clearly drawn.  We knew where all the nuclear weapons were; we couldn't do anything about them but feel frightened, but at least we could monitor them and keep track.

I wonder if older people then felt nostalgic for World War II days.

And what about this time will make us feel nostalgic in 40 years?  Will terrorists seem an easier foe than whatever we're facing then?  Will we feel nostalgic yearnings for the early years of the escalating pace of global warming?  Will we miss the last years of easy oil and natural gas?

We Hold These Truths

Today many of us in the U.S. and its territories will celebrate our independence.  It's a remarkable story, when you consider it.  If you look at the U.S. Revolution, if you use your rational brain, there's no way the colonies should have won that war.  Britain was THE superpower of the 18th century; how could a bunch of upstart, ragtag rebels win?

But win they did, and the world would never be the same. I could make a cogent argument, as so many people have, that the institutions that those early U.S. citizens created are a lasting contribution.

Below, one of my favorites, the Supreme Court.  I love the system of checks and balances.  I love how well it has worked thus far.

I love the idea of justice and how it's played out across countries, across cultures.  I love that despite the miscarriages of justice, humans dust themselves off and recommit to the principles, year after year, decade after decade, century after century.

When is the last time you read the Declaration of Independence?  Or heard it read?  One of my favorite July 4 traditions is the NPR reading of the document (go here to have the experience for yourself).

When I taught more English Composition, I often used the Declaration of Independence as one of our readings. Most students had never read it, and I was surprised how much more useful it is as a model of rhetoric than many of the essays in a standard English Comp reader. And it provides lots of interesting writing possibilities: write your own Declaration of Independence. Choose a chunk of the text and analyze Jefferson's logic. Talk about how the document holds up some 200+ years after it was written. I always got great essays. Great essays and a chance for teaching a Civics lesson--what could be better in a reading and writing assignment?

Above you see me, my mom, and my dad outside of the U.S. Capitol in Washington D.C. in 2009.  What a magnificent building.  Alas, I don't have a picture of the White House to represent the 3rd part of our government.  In fact, for a person who has spent so much of her life in the D.C. area, I have very few pictures, at least very few digital pictures.

I used to make pilgrimages to the Archives building.  I loved seeing the original documents.  You may remember me as the one weeping quietly off to the side.

What is it about original manuscripts that moves me so much?  I had a similar reaction to seeing the original manuscript of Woody Guthrie's "This Land is Your Land."  Something about the actual paper, the handwriting, just makes me emotional.

Will we ever feel that way about computer files?

Above is a picture of the Library of Congress.  How I love a country that has taken such care in cataloguing its literature!  Thomas Jefferson had many faults, but his contributions to humanity were many--including the beginnings of this great library.

Below, a much more recent monument, the Air Force Memorial at the Pentagon.  We went to a wonderful concert during the summer of 2007, just after the Memorial was open to the public.  We heard service bands play.  It was amazing.  It was free, as so many events and museums are in the D.C. area.

This morning on NPR's Morning Edition, I heard a story about military service people taking the oath of citizenship today.  I love to hear stories of how people came to this country, whether it's recently or long ago.  I love the passion that people have when they talk of yearning to be a citizen.  I love remembering that despite the faults of the U.S., this country has so much to offer.

I love this picture of a flag and a life preserver.  I often wish that our country could do more to hold out a life preserver to oppressed people across the globe.  But it's good to remember that our history serves as a life preserver of sorts, a beacon of hope to so many.

Days Straight Out of the Beckett Handbook

I'm not sure how these lazy, hazy days of summer have suddenly become so busy.  First a week of Vacation Bible School, and now this week, which feels like a week of many meetings--but it's really just one long day of meetings.  Today, to be precise.

I'm trying not to feel anxious about the meetings ahead, but frankly, with all sorts of bad news lately, it's hard not to be anxious.  I'm not a huge fan of meetings anyway.  We're often simply rehashing instead of solving problems or trouble shooting.

So, perhaps I shall listen to plainsong in the car today.  Faithful readers of this blog know that I often listen to punk music on my way to days of many meetings (more on that here), but today, I'll listen to monks chanting.

Or maybe I'll listen to the soundtrack from Godspell to remind myself that there's more to life than office insanity.  Days like today may feel straight out of the Beckett handbook, but there's a larger purpose.  There has to be.

But for those of you wanting to explore that theatre of the absurd quality of the modern office, here's a poem for your Tuesday.  It's part of my second chapbook, I Stand Here Shredding Documents.


Penelope in the Office Cubicle


She dismantles the chart she created
just last week, moving data
from one computer program
to another, to create
a chart that looks
just like the original.

She fixes coffee
only to be informed
that everyone now requires
decaf. She pours out pots
of coffee, staining the sink.

Part of her team rewrites
all the departmental objectives.
When the missing members return
from vacation and illness, the team changes
the objectives again. As she synthesizes
the various versions, she realizes
that they’ve written and revised
their way back to the original objectives.

Every day, she wakes up wondering
what work she’ll unweave today,
only to reweave tomorrow.
Every night, she dreams of voyages.

A Love Supreme

I have a colleague at work who is left of left.  If she could have called up the Supreme Court to order rulings that would have pleased her best, she'd have pretty much ordered what the Supreme Court delivered last week.

So, how long was she happy?  About 10 minutes.  I clocked it.  And then she went back to being pessimistic about the future and sour about the Supreme Court.

I love the Supreme Court.  If President Obama offered me a spot on the Supreme Court but said I'd have to take a pay cut to do it, I'd still say yes.  Supreme Court Justice as dream job--what can I say?  I'm an unusual woman.

I also love the Constitution, and I love that Supreme Court Justices love the Constitution too.  They may interpret it differently than I do, but the love is there, and the love is supreme.

Last week, I listened to a brief interview with a lawyer who won the case before the Supreme Court when they ruled that states cannot sentence minors (who haven't killed anyone) to life without parole.  He's been working to get rid of this sentence for years, if not decades.  His faith in the justice system never dimmed, even when he was defending clients suffering egregious abuses at the hands of the criminal justice system.

I felt inspired listening to him, even though I rarely feel the same sense of boundless optimism about human institutions.  But neither am I as bleak and dyspeptic as my leftist colleague.

What accounts for these differences in disposition?  I tend not to take Supreme Court decisions or legislation or decisions at work quite as personally as some people.  I've now spent much of my life serving on committees or leading groups, and I realize that most people truly are doing the best that they can.  It may not be as good a job as I wish they could do, or circumstances may intervene, but I do believe that most humans are trying to improve the world, not break it down.  And I extend that belief to institutions and corporations too.

And if that makes me sound like Anne Frank, well, there are worse ways to be.  I want to believe that people are good at heart.  I want to be like that lawyer who knew that eventually, justice would be won and hope restored to his clients.  Despite my inner apocalypse gal, I want to commit to resurrection, not despair.

Sunday Snippets

--More thoughts on Vacation Bible School here.  Did you miss my VBS Arts and Crafts wrap-up?  That's here.

--I'm hearing from various friends around the country who are sweltering--temps well above 100 degrees, and that's not the heat index, that's the actual temperature.  Our record breaking temps are 96 or higher.  People here complain about the humidity, but it's really not bad compared to other Southern places I've lived.  Spend the summer in Columbia, South Carolina with no AC--now that's hot and humid weather!  We usually have a sea breeze in South Florida too.

--No, the difficult days for me down here are usually in late September and October, when we still have that sultry summer weather and the rest of the country enjoys Autumn.

--I'm reading more apocalyptic lit than usual.  I just finished Colson Whitehead's Zone One (zombies in New York City!) and I'm reading Karen Thompson Walker's The Age of Miracles (the rotation of the earth begins to slow!).  Waiting in the wings?  Kristen Iverson's Full Body Burden, about growing up in the shadow of the Rocky Flats nuclear plant, an apocalyptic story rooted in reality--and thus, likely more terrifying.

--You might notice that the Walker book is just released.  How did I get this book?  I requested it from the public library.  I saw one of the first reviews of the book, in this article in The New York Times.  I got such a thrill from seeing that I was first in the queue!  Of course, I quickly requested a few more titles.  First in the queue again!

--Cheap thrills are the best kind.  Free thrills are even better.

--Hard to believe it's already July.  The summer zooms by, as does the year.  Strange to be reading a book about the rotation of the earth slowing and adding extra minutes and hours to the days, during this time when it feels like my life is speeding by me.