What I learned from picking zuccini...
Sunday, April 13, 2008 at 12:11AM I went over to my brainy friend Robyn McMaster's blog, Brain Based Biz, and found a lovely post about what she learned about picking apples. Turns out Robert Hruzek of Middle Zone Musings and Marcus Goodyear of High Callings, launched a group writing project / meme called "What I Learned from Odd Jobs." Couldn't be a better place to play on a tax prep weekend.
Here's my story:
One day I sat with my best friend at the beach--both of us huddled in wool blankets in the middle of winter--trying to remember and count all the jobs we'd had since our first. On the surface, you might think this was a simple, linear task, but anyone who knows the Etch a Sketch trajectory of female conversations knows it was anything but. Hey, no worries, we get to the destination, but we meander to find meaning and connection, and about 62 jobs between us.
We laughed the kind of snorting, out-your-nose blurts like you do when you're a kid eating Oreos and milk. Her worst job was picking artichokes with a bunch of gossiping women with pink curlers buried under scarves, mine was picking zucchini. Too small. I'm compelled to be snarky and small-minded and caution (remind?) you, never believe a man who says, "about this long" -- it's a measurement that can only be relative.
Years later, I stole pieces of our conversation for a short story I published over at Literary Mama. Here's a snippet from that piece that summarizes my work history:
My thoughts turn inward and backpedal through all my jobs since the first—the one from which I am fired for picking zucchini too small. I see the windowless room of the weekly newspaper where I intern as a copy editor, full of men with stubby pencils, all smoking non-filtered cigarettes. I wince at the memory of my stint as assitant to the movie producer, his hot, condensed breath on my neck, needing help with nothing more than his zipper. Like a flipbook of outdated want ads, the list widens and obscures, a series of blunders and detours. Soul cravings stuffed inside time clocks.
The psychologists in the audience will like say I have been working out my "man" stuff, relationship with authority, etc. But I say I've been working out my solopreneur path my entire life.
What did I learn? I love the heat on my face and back in the summer. I love the smell of rich, loamy river soil, I love the palate of descending greens the farm's geometry offered. I thought, for a millisecond, that I liked the challenge of finding out what "this big" meant, but I was wrong. Life was telling me I wasn't a conformist, and I'd better get ready for the ride.
What's your story? Kammie, you have something lurking? Kirsten, can Circe cook something up here? (If ya do, go take a look at the "guidelines."
360 Chicks, what say YOU?
Reader Comments (13)
Lisa, I can just imagine the job comparisons and the laughter on the blanket and you reminisced about odd jobs you'd experienced in past.
You definitely are a solopreneur. I love to read what you write because there's always a surprise in it for me. You really "sizzle" your words with flair and cut to the chase. I admire that!
Thanks so much for joining in the fun of sharing lessons from Odd Jobs. Hope the others can join in today, since the 13th is the deadline.
Robyn, thank you! It was really fun to read some of the strange, wacky experiences people have had. Fun stuff.And great inspiration.
Lisa,
What a feeling of longing this post evoked in me! Not for any of my past jobs (12 of them over 35 years) but for the experience of sitting on a beach with a dear friend reflecting, meandering and snorting!
As I inventoried my jobs, I wondered what it would look like if I named what I did vs described it? If I kind of identified myself with the jobs? I was a:
Clock Cleaner, Waffle Maker, Garbage Can, Sales Slave, Manipulator, Paper Pusher, Party Thrower, Damage Controller, Poop Scooper, Money Counter, Puppy Killer, Jail Bait.
Now As a Life Coach I'm a Shit Disturber!
I've learned that in every job I've ever undertaken, I've been driven to work really hard...even if the job didn't really require "hard". I'm having a lot more fun now as I attempt to unlearn the 'hard' part. Next, perhaps I'll unlearn the 'work' part.
Tamra, you got me really curious about a couple of them...more curious than if you'd told me your place of employment. This would be a great exercise for clients looking at career shifts. "Shit Disturber" -- I challenge you to put that on your business card...;-)
What if my JOB each day were along these lines: sip coffee, smell Emma's neck, watch the dog find the sunny spot on the rug, dead-head five Shasta daises, call two friends and talk until we have nothing more to say (or snort) about, shop at the Farmer's Market for only tonight's dinner, breathe (and feel it), make love (and experience it), and nap in between. Oh, and if I had the time, inclination and energy to do to my "real" job after all that, I'd maybe try and fit that in too. I think I'm feeling a career change coming on...
@Andrea: what if? So if Tamra is the "shit disturber" then you are the "presence finder" yes?
As I reflect upon this conversation, I am rolling the idea of "job" around in my mind, like a marble under my tongue. What is a job? As a kid, it was my "job" to wash the dishes, dust the living room, put my napkin on my lap, write thank you notes and look happy, even on days when I felt like throwing stones at the cat.
I've had the usual assortment of jobs -- they were things I believed I had to do to get"ahead" in life, to pay the rent, to be worthwhile, even to survive. I have prided myself in doing jobs well...I've had a career, I've become a professional. That was fun at the time. But now, I am ready to stop doing jobs. I'm ready to do what I do simply for the sake of doing it... not because it is my JOB but because it is my JOY.
@Kirby...you know, forgive me for going here, but I think this is what age gives us, isn't it? We aren't desperate to prove ourselves and be somebody. We are somebody, and it isn't full of ego and showiness.And we're content.
Joy.
Thanks for participating, Lisa. Kirby's comment really got me thinking. I was surprised that he sees the word "job" as having negative baggage. For me, a job isn't the opposite of joy necessarily--though it certainly can be if the job drains all the life out of me.
Lately, I've been trying to figure out how to combine job and joy in my life.
Mark, nice to read your comment, and I like your new site design (new to me anyway...haven't been to your blog for a while).
Re: your last sentence: I always find that when I take out the trying and figuring, I'm left with my commitment. My 2 cents.:-)
Mark, thanks for your response.It's nice to reflect about these ideas, For me, the word job connotes doing something for someone else or for some extrinsic purpose (such as earning a living), while joy conotes doing something that is intrinsicly fulfilling. I love your intention to combine the two. To me,that spells right livelihood,living on purpose,following your bliss. A powerful intention!
Hi Lisa...thanks for stopping by whatwoulddadsay. I thought you would love Nancy's stuff. Her books are priceless. although i am thinking your beach blanket conversation must have been priceless. I feel like I have made a new friend,
Regards,
GL HOFFMAN,
Minneapolis
@GL Indeed you have! The name of your blog just kills me, so I am dialed in to you. Thank you.