Sometimes things are hard at home — kids scraping their shins
on one developmental challenge or another,
aging parent collapse, sex rut or chore grievance or colonoscopy scare —
and work is an oasis where you are skilled, stimulated, and appreciated.
Where it’s high reward (money, status) and low risk (work doesn’t define you —
you have a broad base of self-worth!).
Sometimes things are shit at work — your friends and family get the dregs,
and for what? So your entitled boss and opportunist colleagues can still
be pissed that you didn’t generate that extraneous report at 11pm?
So that clients with less experience and even less curiosity can tell you
what to do? All this, when all you’ve ever really wanted is to love and be loved.
To grow a family and to tend to it with your partner, with all the endless empathy,
patience, and affection you vowed you would radiate one day, even if/when
work was shit. Okay, fine. You dreamed of meaningful work, too. Always.
You dreamed of balance. Why is balance still just a dream? Oh —
because [systemic stuff and] balance is a state not a trait. Life is never balanced,
only moments.
So, ground into all four corners of your feet.
Relax your shoulders. And breathe.
You’ll find it again.
And again.
And again.
