Paying attention

/ J. F. Riordan

What would a year of your life be worth? Is there any amount of money you would accept to shorten your time on earth? What if the money offered would give you everything you dream of having? What if it would save the life of a child? When the payment came due, and your time was up, what would you pay to have it back?

This is a version of the Faustian bargain, although Faust wanted youth and love, not money, and the price he paid was eternal damnation. Most jobs are not the Inferno (although I bet we all have stories). But it is, in concentrated form, a question we all grapple with in one way or another when we work. It is the question I asked every single morning when I stood at my picture window, dressed for the office or the classroom, and looked out at the sun rising through the trees. My office was on the bluffs above Lake Michigan, and sometimes, before I pulled into the parking lot, I would stop to watch the sun and the mists rising over the water, hear the gulls crying, and feel what I now realize was a form of grief. But then I got out of the car and went into the building and went to work. And that was not a bad thing.

Most of us have to work for a living. If we are lucky we find work that is meaningful, that makes the world better in some way. But for most of us, even the best job takes time away from things we care about.

I have been very lucky these past few years, because now my work is my writing, and I can do it in my own house with my husband nearby and my dogs on my feet. I choose what and when to write, and sometimes I play hooky. But that’s because I have the freedom to make choices about my priorities.

It is a luxury I appreciate every single day. I do not look back on my years at a job as wasted. I do sometimes look back with regret, but I also know that each step I took was a step toward who I am. Besides, anyone with no regrets hasn’t been trying hard enough.

The theologian Frederick Buechner wrote something I try to think of every day:

One life on this earth is all we get, whether it is enough or not enough. And the obvious conclusion would seem to be that, at the very least, we are fools if we do not live it as fully, and bravely, and beautifully as we can.

No one has a perfect life. No one has a life without grief or loss. But I think happiness is about gathering in the small beauties all around us Right. Now. 

Today will not come again.

25 thoughts on “Paying attention”

  2. Given a life reboot, my course correction would be in the vicinity of 180º regrets, of course.

    Have a great day, love your photos and enjoy the boys

    P

    >

    Like

  3. I taught school for 30 years, and, for the most part, really enjoyed it. I’m now retired, enjoying reading wonderful authors like you, volunteering, exercising daily, traveling with friends and family. Yes, there are bumps along the way, but it’s important to find good things in life. I realize I have more than many, but I try to share with those less fortunate. I’m working on being less judgmental of those who don’t agree with me. Being negative is too stressful!

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Thank you. I have been thinking about my life and taking stock. Coming up on my 71st birthday. I do have regrets. Worked as a nurse in long term care. Loved it. But one thing I’m glad I did was enjoy the small things in life.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Well said! Thank you! I am retired now but at one point during my work life I said to an aunt I wished I had more money and she said “If money was your priority you’d be rich.” She was right. My priority, so to speak, has always been Time. Now I have more of it and I treasure the leisurely way I can do and live and have my being.
    “Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty; this is all you know on earth and all you need to know.” Keats
    To me, the “small beauties” are the best!

    Like

    • I don’t comment often as I expect you are overwhelmed with comments, but I always enjoy your posts. Today’s post is particularly poignant. As an “elder” of 81, I very much agree with your thoughts about life, grief, happiness. I also have enjoyed your posts about the turkeys, and, of course, the dogs. Thank you.

      Like

  10. During the pandemic shutdown some took advantage of the time to appreciate the world. Even if it was limited to the size of their home and they had to use their imagination about what was beyond those boundaries. It was a bit like being a small child again, where an adult had to accompany you past the invisible border. It may be the very reason why those going back to the office are resentful, they want more time to explore. I hope they can chanel that resentment into a different point of view and find the time each day to appreciate something. Even if it is for just a few minutes to watch the sunrise or the sunset. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and the boys.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Great post. I’ve been wrestling with this for a few years. I will say that working remote has eased the pressure (and frankly expense)of commuting, feeling a longing to be home to take care of things, etc. I’m hoping to transition to freelance writing in a year or two.

    Like

  18. Your writing grabbed me today. “Gathering in the small beauties all around us. Right Now.”That’s what has sustained me the last few years. With so much chaos in the world it is mandatory for my survival..

    Sent from Yahoo Mail for iPad

    Liked by 1 person

  19. You are so fortunate that you are doing what you absolutely love surrounded by love, in a beautiful home, with views of entertaining woodland creatures. Inspiration! And I realize how grateful you are. And we avid readers are grateful, too, for your wonderful books and gratuitous dog pictures.❤️ So, thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.