The Other 128

Blog #25 -- Monica Rae

December 23rd, 2022

When I was in junior school we had job fairs. Some students used the time to skip class or hide away in the bathroom with snacks from the vending machine. I was the 13-year-old who stopped by every table listening intently to the adults relaying the details of their career—thinking whether ‘I could do that’. There was a police officer, fireman, nurse, doctor, scientist, electrician, teacher, and football player among others. At the time I thought adult life was directed and dependent upon the career you picked in your teen years—so the pressure was on to make the ‘correct choice.’

I didn’t have the frame of mind to understand that while there was a variety of ‘jobs’ being represented at the job fair—there was so much more that wasn’t represented. So much more I wouldn’t know, I couldn’t understand…

Until I did.

____________________

I have been on the search.

Searching for the perfect time…the long day away from the distractions of my life.

So, I can write.

My mind and journals are filled with half written blogs, a cookbook and two children’s books.

Waiting.

For the next stollen moment that will inspire the addition to each one of these creations.

Why the wait?

Because like most adults I rise each morning before the sun to prepare for another day of work. Three jobs I take great pride in—serving clients, the needs of an office, and working with artists.

But mostly.

It’s because I am a mother.

A role defined by caring for another human(s)—at all hours of the day or night.

Recently, I cared for my infant daughter as her body fought complications resulting from RSV. For over a month, I laid 12 feet from her crib at night hearing her struggle to breathe, rising with each cough to rock her back to sleep—only to wake in the morning and return to the demands of multiple jobs. Days filled with breathing treatments, multiple infections, throwing up from intense coughing, weight loss, clinic visits and procedures, and a constant state of worry stuck to the core of my being.

My infant recovered.

I am immensely grateful.

But surrounding me are other mothers

and

other caretakers.

Who continue the race against time as they wake to serve the needs of others.

I see it.

All around me.

Those I know well.

Daughters caring for their elderly mothers.

Mothers caring for chronically ill or disabled children.

Spouses one or both with cancer—caring for each other.

And then.

Something occurred to me.

Why weren’t these ‘jobs’ represented at the job fair?

No one stood there with spit up on their shirt, tired eyes, worried minds, and a phone near by incase they were needed. Brochures weren’t handed out with bullet points that summarized the best way to handle sleepless nights, unpredictable changes, constant mental and emotional concern for another human, doctor visits, midnight google searches for remedies or pleas to God for some relief.

This wasn’t done because it isn’t a ‘career’ you go to school for. It’s a role we assume, we take on, we do—while we are also doing the rest of life and sometimes along side the job or career we have chosen.

I find this a bit ironic.

We study how to build a fortune, but we don’t learn how to navigate our emotional health and manage the tasks of caring for others. The only ‘care taking’ classes are those offered to health care workers who want to make a career out of it—not the many individuals who find themselves in this role somewhere in adulthood.

We go to college so we can be skilled in a career that fills 40 hours of our week…but what about the other 128 hours?

_____________________

“Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.”

― Zen saying

I have been struggling to finish a blog or book or feel like I am more than the sum of hours spent serving those who need me or working so bills can get paid.

And then somewhere in the midst of it all (perhaps all those mindfulness podcasts are teaching me something?!)

I realized.

It isn’t in the absence of demands that we create—it’s during routine that we find inspiration. “Jobs, titles, moments of change and creativity…bleed into the requirements of daily living,” said entrepreneur, TV host, writer, and podcaster Mike Rowe. I agree.

I thought I had to escape to create. I didn’t know.

Until I did.

I have been creating all along evidenced by the accumulated notes, ideas, and projects just starting. Recently, I read a quote by Lebanese poet Khalil Gibran “I have learned silence from the talkative, tolerance from the intolerant, kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to those teachers.” I rewrote my version of his revelation –“I have learned creativity from the chaos, inspiration from the mundane, compassion from the surrender to mothering.”

At first glance we usher away the required tasks as interference, when the truth is these paradoxical ‘teachers’ ARE the fuel for creativity because they are what fills the other 128 hours!

Each one of my jobs, seasons of career choices and change have all influenced the other roles I take on. I wish I could have told my younger self—'your career choice will not be the sum of you! And the beauty you create will come amid dirty diapers, sleepless nights, financial challenges, and sacrifice.’

I didn’t meet a mother or caretaker at the job fair that day.

I also didn’t meet a writer.

I wonder what would have transpired if I had.

But I am a mother.

I am a writer.

And so many other roles ….

Currently, I am typing under my covers, using a book light my teenage daughter let me borrow so I don’t wake up the baby as I put finishing touches on this blog.

I am smiling.

But not because I am finished.

I smile because

I am

curious

about what comes next…

DEDICATED:

To a mix of individuals who have recently inspired me either by their caretaking roles or their words of purpose! Jan, Annie, ‘Guru’ Caroline V., Christy, Nicole, Maureen, and Ibrahim. And to Agie for all the notes that keep me smiling and learning!