We tend to think of work as our ticket to money. And we want money because we want all that stuff that we believe we can and should have. Some of that stuff is nice - nothing wrong with creature comforts. And money is nice.
But work, real work, not the drag-your-tired-ass-out-of-bed-and-sleepwalk-through-a-numb-routine kind, but the kind of work that fulfills you and challenges you and allows you as a person to contribute your unique skills and abilities to the world is not at all about money.
Often making money and engaging in your real work are at opposite ends of the life spectrum. I'm thinking of a friend who was strangely delighted to be laid off from his "real" job because it freed him to pursue his writing work. Or me, losing my beloved career and now getting on with finding another place to hang my productivity-hat.
As the new year begins, the closest I've come to a resolution in this area is to strengthen this belief: if something is worth my time, it is - whether I get paid or not.
That means that I'm willing to write grants for free or whatever pay they'll offer if I like the organization and believe I can help people. The bottom line is that I'll want to be writing SOMETHING anyway, and it's nice to have a purpose. It keeps me going; it sparks my juices; it connects me with society in a positive way.
I've had some really freeing salary negotiations where I just say, Okay, here's the rate I'd like, but pay me whatever you want. I'll write for you no matter what.
I truly believe that when I approach the world and others with this attitude of loving generousity and trust that life will sustain me, work falls into place. And money follows behind it.
Let's all get down to work!
4 comments:
I always love work when you feel like you would do it regardless of pay. Such as my pottery, mothering and some of my positions as a social worker. Of course we all need to survive, but...
Exactly!
Action is good.
And a bit of luck is necessary too.
I wish you much luck.
I hope you are well.
Namaste
U
Yes well, most of us don't have your office space, B.
We must be paid to leave our warm beds and cross swords with the masses.
I count myself among the blessed to be the one returning to my warm bed each day, unscarred, unfazed even.
And returning, to you.
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