The Place We Do Not Speak Of

God, give me back the time I spent thinking about work

Most people dismiss 40 years of their lives with one brief sentence:

“I was a nurse.”

or,

“I taught school.”

All those hours and days spent worrying and wondering and scheming are fairly pointless. You won’t care once you retire, or after you leave profession #1 for the next career pivot.

Retired people want to have fun now. They crave listening to free jazz in the park, playing in the senior Olympics, and learning pickle ball. They light up when they stay in touch with grandchildren. They want drinks with old friends at the new Mexican restaurant.

If they don’t have grandchildren, maybe they are like me or other Medium peeps who want to write a book, or spend a few years traveling with the ole ball n’ chain.

If they are single and childfree, they might be relocating to a hut on the beach in Tulum for a while. You could do much worse.

My point is this: people’s jobs just aren’t that interesting. Why then do we obsess about them for so much of our lives? Oh, to be given the gift of getting back all those wasted hours (years?) fretting about whether Amy in accounting was getting ready to stab me in the back!

Rebuilt computers for poor kids

Some guys at my church, which is really more of a social club where people meet up on Sunday dressed in their best duds, run a club called C4K computer which stands for “computers for kids.” They refurbish old, donated machines. Once gussied up, the laptops and desktops are distributed throughout the community.

Since this is Arkansas, there are plenty of poor families who like a free computer.

These guys ran businesses and fought in wars and were doctors and lawyers and they don’t talk about any of it.

Crocheting sleeping mats for the homeless

The sleeping mat group meets every other week and crochets 3- x 6-foot mats out of used plastic bags. The mats come out striped in canary yellow and midnight blue and grocery store tan. These mats are extremely durable and roll up into to a bed, and the local outreach shelters can’t get enough of them.

I’ve heard some good tales of when one lady’s dentist dropped dead of a heart attack at the age of 38 while he was playing shuffleboard on a cruise. It’s sad, but he was a lousy dentist and in the end his death saved her thousands.

No one talks about their former job because no one wants to think about it.

Taking photographs

The photography club meets every other month. I don’t go but my husband gets pro tips and they all geek out over filters and lenses. The guys (and gals, but it’s mostly guys) trade secrets and hold competitions.

We have two portraits on the wall from one competition. My husband couldn’t tell you what any of these guys did for a living.

Perfecting the old lady sky hook

The old lady sky hook is not about knitting, but my attempt to mimic the ways of the legendary Kareem-Abdul Jabbar on the court. I play basketball once a week for about an hour with a group of a dozen women. Most of them are going to the national Senior Olympics for the national tournament this week, which is in Ft. Lauderdale.

They range in age from 57 to 84.

I don’t know what any of them did for work. Maybe Karen was a nurse, but I only think so because she told me a tale of how she helped make a splint out of cardboard after a bad injury under the boards.

Traveling to all 57 state parks

I’ve been to nine state parks and have 47 to go. Sometimes, people come by and want to check out our teardrop trailer — always the smallest in the campground — and we happily give them a tour.

They pet the dogs. Maybe we invite them to sit down for a cold drink. We might discuss the trails nearby, or where they are from.

I have yet to ask what they do for a living. It’s an ugly American habit and I refuse to participate anymore.

Final words about That Place We Do Not Speak Of

Working isn’t optional. We need to eat. The point I’m making is this: your family, friends, hobbies, pets and trips are far more important. That’s life, not the grind and the climb up the ladder.

Since beginning my freelance writing journey in March 2019, I’ve learned so much about penning readable stories — leading to over 7K Medium followers and hundreds of articles. I’ve started this Substack newsletter to branch out and laser focus on getting my first book published.

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