Last summer, after 37 years, I left my full-time position (I smirk as I refer to it as “the day job”) to transition to other professional and personal pursuits.
Rather than give me a gold watch (which I don’t need; I know what time it is) or tickets to Cancun (which wouldn’t much interest me), my colleagues and friends gave me a gift that is greatly more creative and meaningful. Dozens of people contributed time and money to build a labyrinth at our hospital campus in my honor. I have, I guess, a reputation in our organization and community as “the spirituality guy,” arising from my teaching over the years and chairmanship of our annual symposium on spirituality and health, and this certainly was a touching tribute.
We held a work day to lay stones in September. A beautiful late-summer day, with all of us lugging granite paving blocks, little children running around, and a friend providing music on hammer dulcimer.
A reporter and photographer from the local newspaper came to develop a story that appeared on the front page of the feature section the following day. It was a very nice article, with good information about labyrinths and kind and generous comments from a number of participants.
Rather than give me a gold watch (which I don’t need; I know what time it is) or tickets to Cancun (which wouldn’t much interest me), my colleagues and friends gave me a gift that is greatly more creative and meaningful. Dozens of people contributed time and money to build a labyrinth at our hospital campus in my honor. I have, I guess, a reputation in our organization and community as “the spirituality guy,” arising from my teaching over the years and chairmanship of our annual symposium on spirituality and health, and this certainly was a touching tribute.
We held a work day to lay stones in September. A beautiful late-summer day, with all of us lugging granite paving blocks, little children running around, and a friend providing music on hammer dulcimer.
A reporter and photographer from the local newspaper came to develop a story that appeared on the front page of the feature section the following day. It was a very nice article, with good information about labyrinths and kind and generous comments from a number of participants.
The title of the article, however, gave me pause. It was, as you see, “A fitting tribute to life’s work.” Of course, I can see that 37 years at one job would seem like a lifetime of work. But it also made me wonder. What is one’s “life’s work,” anyway? What is my life work? Has it been this professional position and everything that has been a part of it, or does it run deeper than that?
It was an exercise that reaffirmed my belief that “life’s work” (you can also use words like “mission,” “calling…” Parker Palmer uses the word, “vocation”) really has to do with who we are and how we live our lives, more than what we do in particular roles.
Two reasons. First, our abilities to do work we do in specific settings is never guaranteed. Jobs come and go. Companies close. International volunteers are displaced. An extraordinarily talented and dedicated legislator in Maine is going to be termed out in the next election cycle. People develop illnesses and disabilities.
Qualities and values having to do with who we are, however, are always with us. I think of “calling” or “vocation” in terms of qualities like kindness, compassion, understanding, and a commitment to help other people to understand and give expression to the best that is in them. These qualities or values are always with me. I always have a choice whether (or not) to be faithful to these values. They can’t be taken away.
Second, life’s work has to pertain to all of life, not just to one’s employment. I have the opportunity and responsibility to express and give life to who I am not only in a workplace, but when I wander over to my neighbors’ place and greet them and their little boy. When I play pick-up basketball with friends. When I talk with customer service representatives on the phone. I wonder, in fact, if there may be more authenticity in how I live in settings like these, than in the workplace where I faithfully perform the expected role of the kindly and attentive psychologist.
I remember Marianne Williamson telling the story about a time in her life when she had been a cocktail waitress. She realized that her work was not serving up drinks; it was being present to the people she served. She reflected that “every business is a front for a church.” Perhaps we can all think of ourselves as emissaries of churches… synagogues, mosques, temples… in our lives’ work of being who we really are.
So… how do you think about your “life’s work?”
It was an exercise that reaffirmed my belief that “life’s work” (you can also use words like “mission,” “calling…” Parker Palmer uses the word, “vocation”) really has to do with who we are and how we live our lives, more than what we do in particular roles.
Two reasons. First, our abilities to do work we do in specific settings is never guaranteed. Jobs come and go. Companies close. International volunteers are displaced. An extraordinarily talented and dedicated legislator in Maine is going to be termed out in the next election cycle. People develop illnesses and disabilities.
Qualities and values having to do with who we are, however, are always with us. I think of “calling” or “vocation” in terms of qualities like kindness, compassion, understanding, and a commitment to help other people to understand and give expression to the best that is in them. These qualities or values are always with me. I always have a choice whether (or not) to be faithful to these values. They can’t be taken away.
Second, life’s work has to pertain to all of life, not just to one’s employment. I have the opportunity and responsibility to express and give life to who I am not only in a workplace, but when I wander over to my neighbors’ place and greet them and their little boy. When I play pick-up basketball with friends. When I talk with customer service representatives on the phone. I wonder, in fact, if there may be more authenticity in how I live in settings like these, than in the workplace where I faithfully perform the expected role of the kindly and attentive psychologist.
I remember Marianne Williamson telling the story about a time in her life when she had been a cocktail waitress. She realized that her work was not serving up drinks; it was being present to the people she served. She reflected that “every business is a front for a church.” Perhaps we can all think of ourselves as emissaries of churches… synagogues, mosques, temples… in our lives’ work of being who we really are.
So… how do you think about your “life’s work?”