It has been two weeks since I have gone to work. Two weeks without the requirement of plugging my brain into a computer and participating in the interchange between electrons in a machine and in my head. When we examine the life of the office worker, the world looks more and more like The Matrix.
There is a transition going on, but it is subtle. Note I am again connected to these machine electrons. However, I am one step away from buying a datebook made of paper. And a few more steps away from returning this box to the status of tool, rather than companion.
There ought to be a word for the condition I'm in. The only words I know - retirement and unemployment- reflect the poles of experience. Retirement is for those who have declared the end to wage earning and planted the flag in the country of leisure. Unemployment states an absence, perhaps a perilous one. I don't feel leisurely or financially imperiled. I do have an urgency about time. Employment answers the question of what will I do today. Without that mandate, the whole world is available, crying out for attention.
What will I do today? Without a plan, the questions keep me up at night. Yet, I don't have a sense of how I would choose, even if I were to force myself to make a list in order to prioritize. There are things I do to soothe the anxiety: Swim laps, clean the kitchen, play music. These have always been diversions from the harder work that needs more thought or creativity. But the bigger questions are how do I make a difference, how do I create beauty, and how do I engage in relationships? Harder still, how to have a balance of all of it?
A job has always narrowed the available time to almost nothing, thereby vitiating the question. Now, the questions loom large and real. There isn't much time left. What to do?
Wait. The sun is out. Gotta go!
