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Today's morning reading was about not putting off things, because death always awaits us. The end is nigh! etc. It's alarmist, but also not incorrect. This kind of sentiment is often used to back up grind culture, where every moment of your life, in capital letters, MUST BE PRODUCTIVE!! It's a sentiment, that though I am generally a fan of Stoicism, is one of the things that I don't align with. I'm maybe borderline hedonist in this regard. If you get joy out of always working and doing? Cool, I guess, do you (though, have you unpacked the whys of that?) But there's really, in my opinion anyway, no particular reason to do so. Your worth is not based on your production, your value, your humanity, etc. The only meaning your life has is what you assign to it, and the idea that you're working yourself to the bone, in a way that you don't enjoy or get some sort of pleasure out of.. that seems really dour to me.
On the other hand, a friend of mine wrote this morning about the work that needs doing (and not knowing WHAT to do). She wrote on a world scale, but on a personal scale, I'll liken it to my veggie garden I've been working on. Do I enjoy the physical labour of building raised beds, of hauling many tonnes of soil, etc? I mean, a little bit I do, but mostly no. It is filthy, and hot, and tiring. But I DO want veggies to eat, and so I recognise that that work must get done.
I've taken to wearing very subtly subversive t-shirts to work. Today is my Dylan Thomas shirt with a snippet of his "Do Not Go Gentle" poem. I recognise that it's a poem about death, but I've always extrapolated it to be about defiance more generally. If folks want us to die, must we lay down for them? If folks WANT us to panic, to do nothing more than work ourselves into exhaustion so that we're unable to to fight back, should we comply? Let sullen fatigue strip us of our humanity?
Maybe the work that we must continue on is within ourselves, in finding ANY remaining joy. Maybe it is outward, in creating that joy for others. Are we tired, are we worried and morose - absofuckinglutely. But maybe that's work we need to do anyway... maybe we should rage against the dying of the light in whatever way best suits us.
On the other hand, a friend of mine wrote this morning about the work that needs doing (and not knowing WHAT to do). She wrote on a world scale, but on a personal scale, I'll liken it to my veggie garden I've been working on. Do I enjoy the physical labour of building raised beds, of hauling many tonnes of soil, etc? I mean, a little bit I do, but mostly no. It is filthy, and hot, and tiring. But I DO want veggies to eat, and so I recognise that that work must get done.
I've taken to wearing very subtly subversive t-shirts to work. Today is my Dylan Thomas shirt with a snippet of his "Do Not Go Gentle" poem. I recognise that it's a poem about death, but I've always extrapolated it to be about defiance more generally. If folks want us to die, must we lay down for them? If folks WANT us to panic, to do nothing more than work ourselves into exhaustion so that we're unable to to fight back, should we comply? Let sullen fatigue strip us of our humanity?
Maybe the work that we must continue on is within ourselves, in finding ANY remaining joy. Maybe it is outward, in creating that joy for others. Are we tired, are we worried and morose - absofuckinglutely. But maybe that's work we need to do anyway... maybe we should rage against the dying of the light in whatever way best suits us.
