More on work, and choices
And, no regrets
It finished as it started.
The first time I met my then wife’s mother, Christmas 1989, Mary led with a straight left: “Hello Nick, what do you do?” “Hello, nice to meet you. I play cricket.” “Oh, I meant, what do you do for work?” “I play cricket.” Michele’s family—first-generation Dutch immigrant dairy farmers. Understandably, they shared a belief that I was not really pursuing a worthy occupation, and that I might not be the best fit for their daughter!—we were married for close to 30 years.
After that, I was less confident projecting my proficiency in my chosen profession. A second attempt at partnership ran similar lines. Cricket is not big in the U.S.
It was put well recently that work is more than a source of income. “Work is how you feel yourself contributing to society. Work is where you make friendships. Work is where you find purpose and develop your vocation. Work is where you decide what your skills are, or are not.” I chose cricket. The pursuit of monetary gain is not everything—which is also why I chose part-time writing.
To quote Paul Auster: “Don’t be a writer—it’s a terrible way to live your life. There’s nothing to be gained from it but poverty and obscurity and solitude. So if you have a taste for all those things—which means you’re really burning to do it—then go ahead. But don’t expect anything from anybody.”
And an anonymous cricket quote, which fits perfectly:
“Don’t be a cricketer—it’s a terrible way to live your life. There’s nothing to be gained from it but poverty and obscurity and solitude. So if you have a taste for all those things—which means you’re really burning to do it—then go ahead. But don’t expect anything from anybody.”
Mary and Lynn, I am profoundly sorry for my career choices. I don’t regret it one bit.
See, that’s what happens when you scribble spontaneously — you never know where you’ll end up.
Happy Wednesday. And, do what you can.
Nick
