Saturday, January 13, 2007

Seven months later and survival

Some people call blogging an addiction. I don't think it's an addiction for me, it's more like a vacation. I love reading my friend's blogs. I love having people comment when I'm blogging but for the last six months, I haven't missed blogging. And the fact that I am writing today doesn't mean I will write tomorrow.

Very honestly, a friend told me about a friend of hers who had just read all of my blogs. And because I forget that the internet knows no secrets, I also forget that while I'm not writing currently, I still exist with who I was all of those months ago. A wee bit of pride made me reconnect for a minute.

My work these days is writing. I am working as one of those paid consultant types who does fundraising, organizational development, etc. I am making more money than I've ever made before. In a few weeks I go to California to study craniosacral therapy and you know what I spend my time thinking about? How if global warming comes tomorrow, or if someone continues to respond to our out of control imperialism with their own brand of rage on an even bigger scale, or if our inflated economy crashes, I can't help but wonder how I would care for our family. I mean, let's get real, my work isn't "real work," it's a way to help organizations exist within capitalism, to help these grassroots struggling places to get their piece of the pie so that they can continue to do their good and righteous work which often means empowering individuals and communities who have been victimized by capitalism. Phew. Mindfuck.

To me, "real" work means practical skills that in some way support the basic needs of people's lives: building things, growing food, taking care of children, providing health care. So I was thrilled when Rocki, my partner, started carpentry and, while understanding why she stopped doing it, sad that she couldn't rebuild our house if a plane fell on it. I used to work as a gardener and have some of those skills. I like studying craniosacral therapy so that I have a "real skill" and Rocki keeps reminding me, we can ALWAYS take care of children.

Still, I want more. The older I get, I discover this little survivalist residing right behind my chestbone.


Kristin said...

Hello, We could totally grow our own food - and cook up a tasty meal too boot.

Emptyman said...

I really appreciate the comments on "real" skills versus those sort of tertiary jobs that only become necessary because there are plenty of people with real skills and plenty of... well, plenty. In anthropology you learn about how communities have to start creating lots of excess calories to have specialists -- shamans, generals, instrument-makers, poets, other people who don't do anything to increase the amount of food gathered, but who are considered worth keeping around so long as there's a food surplus.

Having said all that... seems to me the ability to help groups and individuals communicate clearly and convey their importance to the world is a more necessary skill than the ability to rub someone's head until they feel better.