Good Work

[All the ancient wisdom] tells us that work is necessary to us, as much a part of our condition as mortality; that good work is our salvation and our joy; that shoddy or dishonest or self-serving work is our curse and our doom.

― Wendell Berry, The Unsettling of America

By many accounts, I’ve had a productive year. I don’t know how to feel about this. Since my cancer diagnosis, I sought to find value in myself without the badge of outward accomplishments. At one point, my therapist told me, “You are a human being first, not a human doing.” Yet, I am writing a year-end wrap-up highlighting the launch of three projects in which I played significant roles. Not to mention, I had my first piece of creative writing published in Wishbone Words, Issue 14.

Spiritual thinkers like Wendell Berry and Thich Nhat Hanh offer wisdom to this question I pose to myself about productivity. Both saw value in good work. That’s the work I hope I did this year: Work that was honest, compassionate, and helped my community.

It feels strange to be busy while going to chemo every two weeks and managing the strain of type 1 diabetes while my endocrine system acts up—perhaps from steroids, perhaps from the strains of chemo. It is not easy, and it means having to be very intentional about my work. Like many disabled people, I find myself on the fringes of work—needing work that allows me the time I need for self-care and prioritizing my needs.

Unfortunately, I decided to depart from my pre-cancer career. I couldn’t do it when extreme medical side effects made it difficult to show up in an office and commit to five hours of solid work. I loved the routine and the connections with people that I gained by returning to work, and the project I was working on was interesting. However, I also realized how my priorities have changed in the past three years of treatment. Nonetheless, it was an honour to contribute to Quantum Sandbox 2.0.

From home, I helped with two community projects this year: The ElevateUP Career Mentorship Program with The Dollar Detectives and Imagine—Reshaping Adolescent and Young Adult Cancer Care Through Immersive Experience with Anew Research Collaborative. These projects were filled with incredible learning about community engagement and leadership. I feel honoured to have seen these projects flourish alongside the dozens of co-creators and collaborators.

In this community spirit, I recognize how different each of us is. How meaningful, honest, and compassionate work looks different for everyone. I saw how our ability to work—or not—does not diminish our basic humanity and right to live a joyful life, and how society’s view of productivity is not a measure of our worth. I am thankful to my friends who show up in many ways: compassionately, joyfully, and in service to their families and communities. It is so beautiful to watch the diversity of ways we do the good, necessary work—even and especially when it doesn’t fit society’s definition.

Thank you, my friends, new and old!

Do not live with a vocation that is harmful to humans and nature. Do not invest in companies that deprive others of their chance to live. Select a vocation that helps realize your ideal of compassion.

― Thich Nhat Hanh, The Fourteen Precepts of Engaged Buddhism

Quotes:

Berry, Wendell. The unsettling of America: Culture & agriculture. Catapult, 2015.

Hanh, Thich Nhat. “The Fourteen Precepts of Engaged Buddhism.” Social Policy 33, no. 1 (2002).

Thanks-giving

I’ve returned from a short birthday “vacation,” full of waterfalls, cedars, and lakes. Although side effects from my current chemo regime afflicted me, Rod and I were able to enjoy the peaceful days together (except maybe the part where I took us up a daunting service road in our tiny civic to see a cedar grove. I think the adrenaline of the drive added to our eventual enjoyment. Also, not the first time I’ve taken civics on such inadvisable drives).

I’ve been reading John O’Donohue’s Anam Cara (a Celtic word, meaning soul friend). Early on, he introduces the idea that the soul holds the body within it, rather than the soul being an entity within the body [Amazingly, when I asked Rod where his soul was, he said everywhere! For me, this was a bit of a revelation]. I loved the practice he offers of breathing in the soul, feeling the relationships I share with all that is around me, and how nourishing–maybe even healing–this is.

Beyond all else, I am immensely grateful for my friends and community. The walks and chats I’ve had with you have been so invigorating, and kept my optimism alive. Reading books, taking courses and doing workshops with you has fed my soul. The peaceful and reflective times where we’ve merely just soaked in each other’s presence has been nourishing. Your gifts of company, conversation, care giving, food, money, art and books [if you’ve lent me books, I will get them back to you, promise] have all been so appreciated. I keep many of these gifts in my living room with me so I am regularly reminded of you. Thank you thank you thank you!

In this exercise of gratitude, I am also extending these words to myself and to my more-than-human companions (the saskatoon bushes, the strawberry plants, the bluff and its grasses, the rivers, the squirrels…). I realize how fortunate I have been to find great friends in myself and in the landscapes, for with these friends I am never alone.

I am not hosting a gathering this year for my birthday, I have tried to schedule various one-on-one hangouts instead. Last year’s gathering–in the days before my liver and colon surgery–was hosted in appreciation of all that you’ve done for me. Although there’s no formal gathering this year, I just want to send everyone a big hug of gratitude, some nice pictures, and these closing words by John O’Donohue:

“A Friendship Blessing

May you be blessed with good friends.
May you learn to be a good friend to yourself.
May you be able to journey to that place in your soul where there is great love, warmth, feeling, and forgiveness.

May this change you.
May it transfigure that which is negative, distant, or cold in you.
May you be brought in to the real passion, kinship, and affinity of belonging.

May you treasure your friends.
May you be good to them and may you be there for them; may they bring you all the blessings, challenges, truth, and light that you need for your journey.

May you never be isolated.
May you always be in the gentle nest of belonging with your anam ċara.”

― John O’Donohue