I guess I'm just one of the few people who don't feel defined by work or their job title. That is a part of me, but it doesn't define me. When I go to work, I feel like I'm taking who I am to my job; I'm not going to a job to define myself; I was a person before I got my current job." Heck, I rarely ever talk to other people about my work, but at any get-together, right after the "hello, how are you doing" what is the next thing everyone wants to know? "What do you do?" I've read that it would be considered rude in some cultures, just like asking people how much money they make or how many cattle they own, but not here.
I often want to say something like, "I like to sing, and I probably know a thousand songs by heart" or some other expression of my true identity like "I love spending time with my daughter and watching her grow into a beautiful young woman," but that would draw strange looks in our culture. An answer like that would lead people to believe, "Oh, he must be unemployed," or "he must be a custodian." Sometimes I want to give a sarcastic answer like, "Oh, I have so many important jobs I couldn't begin to explain them all. I only get about three hours sleep each night because I'm so busy. I'm barely able to be talking to you right now. My blood pressure is way too high, and my doctor says I'm headed for a heart attack if I don't slow down, but that's ok; I feel so productive!" I've also noticed that when someone announces they are going to retire, what is the first question everyone has? "What are going to do when you retire?" The answer they are expecting isn't that you are going to catch up on some reading and spend time with the grandchildren, but they want to know what kind of busyness you have lined up.
It seems that a lot of people I know wear busyness as a badge of honor. They feel like, "I'm busy, therefore, I'm important and valuable." While people are caught up in business, it seems that is the only thing their mind entertains. Now that my friend who is paralyzed has been forced to take some down time, he has had time to reflect on his life, and from what I gather, he doesn't find it as pretty and rewarding as he thought it was.
He has been forced to look at what is lurking around when he's not so busy. For one, he realizes his dad who has alzheimer's isn't getting any younger or better, and won't be around forever, but he hasn't spent time with him like he should because he's too busy. Another is how he's missing out on the most precious moments of his grandkid's lives because he's too busy working. He also noticed that his marriage could have used a little tune-up, but he was too busy before. That's just to name a few, but he has quite a list.
I've known people who retire from a public job, and it's like they don't know what to do with their self because their identity has been tied to their job so long. I like getting things done; we all have things we need to get done, but I don't feel that my value as a human being is derived solely from this little slice of life.
I think that once people get so involved in that one-track mode of being busy all the time, they are at a loss for what to do with a few minutes of extra time, and it develops a weird guilt if they aren't busy. If they take a night off for whatever reason, their mind is in such a buzz they are wondering, "Shouldn't I be doing something?"
That's not the life I have ever lived, and it's not the life I ever want to live. This has become more real to me after my friend's accident
