Life, Work, Passion, Purpose

coffee mug going in to bisque fire

As I was leaving Jo Ann Fabric and Craft Store with Jessie tonight--having been there to pick up the Halloween skeleton decorations for the garden that I ordered online earlier today--Jessie asked me what I do. She said she has heard me say I was busy or I was tired, but she said she had no idea what I really did. For a bit of context, before going to Jo Ann Fabrics I been at a booster club meeting for the Cinematic Arts program for her school and was driving her home because she stayed after to do some work. I had then treated her to a fast food dinner (Dave made fettucine alfredo and seared scallops with garlic bread for dinner tonight, but she really wanted chicken nuggets...) before going to Jo Ann. We left Jo Ann for HEB so I could pick up her prescription which I had just called in. So what do I do...

glazed bowl going in to fire

I was rather dumbfounded by the question actually and wondered if that was how mothers who worked in the home instead of in an outside company felt. Had I not been feeling pretty self-confident and worthwhile today, I might have been crushed. But for the first time comparing what I do to, oh, say, what Dave does during a day (coding, the occasional meeting, more coding), I didn't feel like what I do is less in any way, shape or form. I hit the ground running at 7:20 this morning and didn't get home and put tools down until 8:20 tonight. Wednesdays have been like that lately.

Spinning with Pavlova

Part of why I felt good about what I do is that it _finally_ got through my head that Dave spends every day doing what he loves. Sure, there are some things he has to do that he's not thrilled with, but I clean the cat box every day too. I fill out benefits paperwork and pay bills. I fix our well system when it stops producing water. I also get to spin, make pottery, play with wood and steel, sew shirts, make glass, make jewelry, weave, and donate my time to support Jessie's teachers and the fine arts program at her school. The ONLY difference between what I do and what Dave does is that he gets paid money for his activities, and I (mostly) do not. But we both get paid in satisfaction, and I don't think I am any less satisfied with my life than he is with his.

wood and steel table

I do not do what I do with any less passion. I move through my day with  grace, verve, and poetry. I do not sit around smoking, watching daytime soaps, eating bon-bons, or nappping all day. I do not lounge in a hammock and read all day. I immerse myself completely in the activities I do--be they gardening or tending bees or whatever--and they are almost all aimed at making someone's life more beautiful and/or comfortable. Making someone--sometimes just myself--happy. I can live with that. I can feel strong about and proud of that.

Dave's birthday shirts

I guess I would feel bad--and maybe do something different (like get a 9-5 job)--if Dave hated what he was doing and only did it to bring in a paycheck. I would have to step up and do my part to support the family even if it meant working at the Container Store or the HEB deli counter. But in our mid 50's, that isn't Dave's and my life. We are both extraordinarily lucky to be able to do what we love every single day. And that's what I need to be teaching Jessie. It isn't that you get paid for what you do, it's that you do what you love. Life is worthwhile every day if you are living it fully. If you are working now to save money so you can live and enjoy life later... that's a waste.