Being away from traditional forms of employment (you can simply put, being unemployed) enabled me to spend more time with my family and my thoughts.
I might be speaking from privilege, having the luxury not to participate in traditional work while still having my basic needs met. But if you have access to resources by simply being a productive part of the family, say, keeping the house, doing chores, helping the sick and the elderly, then I’d like to think that’s still a form of work, albeit compensated differently: house, food, clothing, electricity, internet.
And having more time to think and to engage in solitude, I realized how far I had strayed from the life task my childhood self had always felt called to: learning new things and communicating ideas and stories to uplift others. I’d like to think that I’ve always been an encouraging friend. Responsibilities that keep the lights on, although important, came front and center above all else, and have sidetracked me from pursuing the things that give me wonder.
In my early twenties, as I was still trying to find my place in the world, and learning how to increase my buying power, starting from scratch—the same way you’d start off with playing The Sims, unless you know the cheat code for accumulating Simoleons—I can say that it was a season of drought and testing. Learning to be content and to be creative with finite resources carried me through. Only in my late twenties was I able to feel confident enough to spend comfortably without fearing running out.
Now in my early thirties, I can say I am still trying to find my place in the world, but with experience to show for it. This season of my life, I feel like I am living in Goshen (that biblical place of temporary provision), where everything is provided for, while I am being prepared for the promised land.
While I am still here in this temporary place in this moment of my life, I truly appreciate being a part of a supportive family that functions as a team, helping one another up. Probably, if I belonged to an individualistic one, I wouldn’t thrive as I do. And that’s what I’ve been thinking these past few weeks: I’m still finding my place, but at least I am doing it surrounded by people who want me to find it.
jessa 