Wow, I’ve finally tapped back into that place that I’ve been searching for for years. That place where the words flow freely from my mind to my fingertips to produce precisely what I feel to be a sense of pleasure and joy. No pressure, no expectation. Just ease and delivery.
We’re in the middle of a pandemic, and an election cycle, making news and life events more prevalent and hectic than ever. As a nearly full-time writer, I’ve found myself more engulfed and omnipresent in breaking and current news as ever, reporting on corporate bankruptcies as a result of COVID-19 while simultaneously reporting on the birth and growth of new businesses delivered from the pressure of this pandemic. Quite the juxtaposition to view death and rebirth on such a capitalistic scale as this. It’s enforcing the evolution of free enterprise as individuals looking to stand out in a marketplace as entrepreneurs and job seekers have to do more to be desired by companies who are now seeking a more consulted individual who can deliver high growth and return results.
This revelation has reinforced a deep self inclination in the power of resting for the virtue of self-preservation. In a society that is racing to a crash and burn, it is evident to see that we have fast-tracked ourselves into a culture of all work and no play.
The scam of all of corporate society being forced to work from home and coming to the realization that work could be done from home, and that it could have been a viable option for many is just one of the many things that advocating for more work/life balance for myself is looking like.
I’ve been working from home for 4 years now, and the lifestyle is completely different now than that of two years ago. Previously, I would find myself fearful of allowing my screen to show that I am idle out of fear of looking like I am unproductive in my workplace. However, deconstructing the emotion of feeling unneeded when not being peak-productive for all hours of the day was a crippling phenomena to unburden myself with. Reassessing the level of rest to the level of work I output has really been a semi crippling experience for me when so much of my twenties was all about working as hard as I can to survive to just barely get by. Now as a woman in my 30’s the work I am doing is getting me by and then some however, my mindset is still that of someone who is still trying to survive.
It’s a complex of the identity as one continues to grapple with the complex destruction of telling oneself to “work harder for just a bit longer” and “relax now, you’ve done enough for now.”
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