I am twenty-six years old and just finished the Harry Potter series. Does the shame I feel come from reading juvenile fiction at my age, or the fact that it took me so long to read the HPs? I'm just kidding. I don't feel shame. I'm talking to all of you pressurers who have tormented and hounded me about reading Rowling's books. I am not ashamed, you hear me?!
But my shame is not what I want to discuss. I want to shame others. I want to shed a light on priorities. It's something that's been consuming my mind in recent years. Yes, even before I quit my job and became an impoverished parasite living at my parents' house with way too much free time on my hands. But again, this isn't about my shame--or my current shame.
The first year I was promoted to management, I worked eighty-hour weeks on average. I was twenty-four. An old friend (as old as you can have them at twenty-four) contacted me out of the blue and wanted to go to lunch. I was absolutely delighted to see him and threw all thoughts of work away for three hours in order to grab a bite and catch up.
We talked of many things, but what he came back to again and again was our friendship. "If anyone had told me we would lose contact, wouldn't talk for years," he said, shaking his head, "I just wouldn't believe it. You were one of my best friends. I still consider you one of my best friends. We can't let this happen."
And it was true. He was the beginning of my priority purgatory. We left filled with plans of getting together and how we would somehow work around my insane work schedule. But reality and responsibility and other reprehensible things constricted me. Weekend after weekend I canceled our plans. Too much work, I couldn't come. It was true...but only if you're looking at it from one angle. I let work, work for an employer I disdained, work for clients who often did not appreciate it, work for a company that did not value me or the value I added to their products ahead of a friendship that could have lasted a lifetime. But it didn't. I didn't prioritize it, and I haven't heard from him in two years.
After that year of hell, my supervisor finally realized that I was near dead and would quit out of sheer exhaustion if not from finding another job (which I had no time to do!). So my work load gradually decreased to the point where I was working an average fifty-hour week. I had time to breathe, look for other jobs, and reevaluate my priorities. The only friends I ever saw were my work friends, whom I loved and still love, but that's not a full life. I had let that blimmin' job fill up every nook and cranny. I used to go home every Sunday and eat lunch with my family, but that all stopped when I got promoted. I had to work on Sundays. I used to go visit my out-of-town friend (the aforementioned Tulsa dweller) at least once a month, but after the promotion, it was more like a couple times a year. Even when I did see her, I would have to bring my work with me.
What good is whining that you have too much work to see people when you detest that work? What good is it to the people you love who want to see you? Who want to be there for you? What will your life look like, years down the road, if you keep choosing work? Is it the life you want to lead?
Harry Potter knew this. He valued friends and family over his life. That's why Voldemort couldn't kill him. (Oh. Spoiler alert.) But we aren't talking life and death here, in our reality. We're talking prioritization of time. But that can be in the HP series as well. I think I'm too much like Hermione. I value learning, but even more than learning, I like applying what I've learned and showing off what I've learned. I like being smart. I'm sure pride is part of it, but it feels like it's more about what you do well. An artist paints and draws and displays it because that's what he loves and what he does well. Like Hermione, I learn well. So I slave over books and apply it through my job or studies. But Hermione had Harry and Ron to pull her out of her studies and out of her head and keep her grounded. She prioritized her friendship with them above her studies. Every time she broke a rule or paused in her school studies to help Harry with some quest, she was choosing her friends over her studies. Sure, she helped them through her knowledge, because that is what she's good at. But she made time for them; she broke out of her "work" to nurture the friendship and simply be physically and mentally and emotionally present when they needed a friend.
Harry was only a mediocre wizard. Perhaps he could have been incredibly powerful, if he had studied. But he valued his friends much more than he did studying. In the end, it served him well.
Of course priorities require balance. You can't only spend time with friends and family. They'd get sick of you. But think, whenever someone asks to meet up, whether or not you can't set aside an hour, just one hour, to see that person. Every time you tell someone "no" because you choose work or an office party or some other obligation that you aren't even particularly happy about, you are prioritizing those things you don't love over those that you do. And the things you don't prioritize, no matter how much you tell yourself you love them, will feel unloved and eventually leave. Because how you spend your time shows your priorities. And what you prioritize above all else is, actually, what you love the most.
Now that I'm an unemployed loser, I plan on spending as much time doing the things I really love as possible. I'm going to find a church. I'm going to do those little chores my parents want me to because I want to show that I love them. I'm going to help my brother start a business (more to come in subsequent posts, I am sure). I'm going to walk my dogs. I'm going to say YES! every time someone wants to hang out. And I'm going to read and write and edit and enjoy my life. I am determined to shape a present and a future I am happy in. What's the point of suffering through a present for an uncertain happy future? Both are possible as long as you keep your priorities in order.
But my shame is not what I want to discuss. I want to shame others. I want to shed a light on priorities. It's something that's been consuming my mind in recent years. Yes, even before I quit my job and became an impoverished parasite living at my parents' house with way too much free time on my hands. But again, this isn't about my shame--or my current shame.
The first year I was promoted to management, I worked eighty-hour weeks on average. I was twenty-four. An old friend (as old as you can have them at twenty-four) contacted me out of the blue and wanted to go to lunch. I was absolutely delighted to see him and threw all thoughts of work away for three hours in order to grab a bite and catch up.
We talked of many things, but what he came back to again and again was our friendship. "If anyone had told me we would lose contact, wouldn't talk for years," he said, shaking his head, "I just wouldn't believe it. You were one of my best friends. I still consider you one of my best friends. We can't let this happen."
And it was true. He was the beginning of my priority purgatory. We left filled with plans of getting together and how we would somehow work around my insane work schedule. But reality and responsibility and other reprehensible things constricted me. Weekend after weekend I canceled our plans. Too much work, I couldn't come. It was true...but only if you're looking at it from one angle. I let work, work for an employer I disdained, work for clients who often did not appreciate it, work for a company that did not value me or the value I added to their products ahead of a friendship that could have lasted a lifetime. But it didn't. I didn't prioritize it, and I haven't heard from him in two years.
After that year of hell, my supervisor finally realized that I was near dead and would quit out of sheer exhaustion if not from finding another job (which I had no time to do!). So my work load gradually decreased to the point where I was working an average fifty-hour week. I had time to breathe, look for other jobs, and reevaluate my priorities. The only friends I ever saw were my work friends, whom I loved and still love, but that's not a full life. I had let that blimmin' job fill up every nook and cranny. I used to go home every Sunday and eat lunch with my family, but that all stopped when I got promoted. I had to work on Sundays. I used to go visit my out-of-town friend (the aforementioned Tulsa dweller) at least once a month, but after the promotion, it was more like a couple times a year. Even when I did see her, I would have to bring my work with me.
What good is whining that you have too much work to see people when you detest that work? What good is it to the people you love who want to see you? Who want to be there for you? What will your life look like, years down the road, if you keep choosing work? Is it the life you want to lead?
Harry Potter knew this. He valued friends and family over his life. That's why Voldemort couldn't kill him. (Oh. Spoiler alert.) But we aren't talking life and death here, in our reality. We're talking prioritization of time. But that can be in the HP series as well. I think I'm too much like Hermione. I value learning, but even more than learning, I like applying what I've learned and showing off what I've learned. I like being smart. I'm sure pride is part of it, but it feels like it's more about what you do well. An artist paints and draws and displays it because that's what he loves and what he does well. Like Hermione, I learn well. So I slave over books and apply it through my job or studies. But Hermione had Harry and Ron to pull her out of her studies and out of her head and keep her grounded. She prioritized her friendship with them above her studies. Every time she broke a rule or paused in her school studies to help Harry with some quest, she was choosing her friends over her studies. Sure, she helped them through her knowledge, because that is what she's good at. But she made time for them; she broke out of her "work" to nurture the friendship and simply be physically and mentally and emotionally present when they needed a friend.
Harry was only a mediocre wizard. Perhaps he could have been incredibly powerful, if he had studied. But he valued his friends much more than he did studying. In the end, it served him well.
Of course priorities require balance. You can't only spend time with friends and family. They'd get sick of you. But think, whenever someone asks to meet up, whether or not you can't set aside an hour, just one hour, to see that person. Every time you tell someone "no" because you choose work or an office party or some other obligation that you aren't even particularly happy about, you are prioritizing those things you don't love over those that you do. And the things you don't prioritize, no matter how much you tell yourself you love them, will feel unloved and eventually leave. Because how you spend your time shows your priorities. And what you prioritize above all else is, actually, what you love the most.
Now that I'm an unemployed loser, I plan on spending as much time doing the things I really love as possible. I'm going to find a church. I'm going to do those little chores my parents want me to because I want to show that I love them. I'm going to help my brother start a business (more to come in subsequent posts, I am sure). I'm going to walk my dogs. I'm going to say YES! every time someone wants to hang out. And I'm going to read and write and edit and enjoy my life. I am determined to shape a present and a future I am happy in. What's the point of suffering through a present for an uncertain happy future? Both are possible as long as you keep your priorities in order.
You are so right. I know I have let important friendships fall behind because I am frankly exhausted by work and school and all that "making a career" stuff. I am a horrible correspondent, and I know that needs to change. I'm just thankful for my good, understanding, patient friends, who forgive me every time I come groveling.
ReplyDeleteYes. They're the best. And I'm finding out just how many of those I have now that I don't have a job. I am freaking out about finances, but I don't think I've ever been so happy.
DeleteAh, friend. You have stumbled upon the universal post-Tate epiphany. Many a weary and depressed and almost friendless former Tate employee has come to this exact same conclusion. Good news: It's not too late for you OR your friendships. Take it from one who got out. You can start new friendships, and sometimes, you can even rekindle old ones.
ReplyDeleteI especially like your line "what you prioritize above all else is, actually, what you love the most." It speaks to me in my current post-relationship status. Helps remind me why going back and groveling and asking for a redo are NOT good ideas. I left because I wasn't prioritized. And I need to stay gone.
-A
Good! Prioritizing yourself is an entirely different post, but it is so true! It works both ways. The people in your life should prioritize you. Otherwise how can you count on them to be there for you? Be the friend you want to have is the saying that goes best with this line of thought.
DeleteBe the friend you want to have. Yes, I like that quite a lot too. Kind of like dress for the job you want and be the change you want to see in the world. All wonderful platitudes. :)
DeleteI am ready to join the epiphany!
Delete