Why is it that we spend most of out meaningful years doing the things prescribed by others? Sure, I know that as kids we have to do what our parents say, so we spend the first 20 years of our lives marching to their orders. The last five or so of those years, we participate in a sort of tango with our parents as we try to assert our independence and they try to rein us in. It’s all done out of love, but in such an immature state, we rarely recognize the importance of parental boundaries.
Then, we go off to college or select a mate. We think we’re our own people in college, living it up away from home. But there always comes a day of reckoning when we realize we’re living on our parents’ money, and they are still very much in charge. With marriage comes compromise, and many of us (especially the female gender) take on the identity of our partners. We immerse ourselves in his life, and before we know it, we forget those lofty dreams and ambitions. Children come along, and dreams are put on hold.
To make a living, we enter the world of work. Very few of us are fortunate enough to fall into our dream jobs the first (or even the second and third) time out. So we spend the next 40 years working within someone else’s system and playing by their rules unless we’re lucky enough to work for ourselves.
I am extremely adaptable and can be content in almost any situation. So I have actually enjoyed most of the jobs I’ve held. But as I got older and took on jobs with more responsibility, I learned that higher pay, more important positions, and greater prestige carried a high price. I always thought that as I advanced in position, I would be able to do things more on my own terms, but I didn’t find that to be the case. Maybe it was only my situation . . . it seemed as I climbed the corporate ladder I was expected to do more with less. As I exited certain positions, I found that in more than one instance, two (or more) people were doing the same job that I had done alone. Makes me wonder . . . perhaps the problem is me and not the jobs. Hmmmm . . .
In my last job, I helped a small company grow into a larger and more profitable one. I was promoted quickly and made a great salary—one that most people only dream about. But in the end, the money and position didn’t matter much. For whatever reason, it seemed that I reached a point at which I had outlived my usefulness. I think the turning point came when I made a conscious decision that I would not work round the clock—that I would have a life outside of work. And when I waffled in that decision, my body took over and made the final judgment call for me.
For a long time, I resisted. Even when I didn’t feel well, I always put in 60 hours a week. So it seemed that when I cut back to only 60 to 70 hours a week, I was not very useful. It was never enough! I started out giving away so much of me that when I tired of the workaholic lifestyle, the less frenetic pace was insufficient.
Now, for the first time since I was 14 years old, I am unemployed! And I must admit that I am enjoying it more than I ever thought I could. I can sleep late, take naps, read a good book. But you know what? I don’t do those things often . . .
I am so enamored with being a grandmother that I forego such luxuries. And on the rare occasions that I choose to indulge in some of the things employed people don’t get to do, I take naps with my best buddy, Brennyn. I read a good book with interesting characters like Elmo, Corduroy, and Peter Rabbit. And I get up early to babysit while my son and daughter-in-law make a living—on someone else’s terms.
Then, we go off to college or select a mate. We think we’re our own people in college, living it up away from home. But there always comes a day of reckoning when we realize we’re living on our parents’ money, and they are still very much in charge. With marriage comes compromise, and many of us (especially the female gender) take on the identity of our partners. We immerse ourselves in his life, and before we know it, we forget those lofty dreams and ambitions. Children come along, and dreams are put on hold.
To make a living, we enter the world of work. Very few of us are fortunate enough to fall into our dream jobs the first (or even the second and third) time out. So we spend the next 40 years working within someone else’s system and playing by their rules unless we’re lucky enough to work for ourselves.
I am extremely adaptable and can be content in almost any situation. So I have actually enjoyed most of the jobs I’ve held. But as I got older and took on jobs with more responsibility, I learned that higher pay, more important positions, and greater prestige carried a high price. I always thought that as I advanced in position, I would be able to do things more on my own terms, but I didn’t find that to be the case. Maybe it was only my situation . . . it seemed as I climbed the corporate ladder I was expected to do more with less. As I exited certain positions, I found that in more than one instance, two (or more) people were doing the same job that I had done alone. Makes me wonder . . . perhaps the problem is me and not the jobs. Hmmmm . . .
In my last job, I helped a small company grow into a larger and more profitable one. I was promoted quickly and made a great salary—one that most people only dream about. But in the end, the money and position didn’t matter much. For whatever reason, it seemed that I reached a point at which I had outlived my usefulness. I think the turning point came when I made a conscious decision that I would not work round the clock—that I would have a life outside of work. And when I waffled in that decision, my body took over and made the final judgment call for me.
For a long time, I resisted. Even when I didn’t feel well, I always put in 60 hours a week. So it seemed that when I cut back to only 60 to 70 hours a week, I was not very useful. It was never enough! I started out giving away so much of me that when I tired of the workaholic lifestyle, the less frenetic pace was insufficient.
Now, for the first time since I was 14 years old, I am unemployed! And I must admit that I am enjoying it more than I ever thought I could. I can sleep late, take naps, read a good book. But you know what? I don’t do those things often . . .
I am so enamored with being a grandmother that I forego such luxuries. And on the rare occasions that I choose to indulge in some of the things employed people don’t get to do, I take naps with my best buddy, Brennyn. I read a good book with interesting characters like Elmo, Corduroy, and Peter Rabbit. And I get up early to babysit while my son and daughter-in-law make a living—on someone else’s terms.
