good work

An acquaintance I met on a farm here in Abq now keeps a blog on her life in Madagascar. She's there to do permaculture and community development with the Peace Corps. Actually, it sounds like she does very simple, personal, and spontaneous work, based on the needs and the limited resources of her village. One line from her most recent post stayed in my attention: she writes that while she likes her community and has much to be grateful for, "it has been hard to identify good work".

It's fascinating to think that a third world country and this one might have a struggle in common: the challenging search for "the good work". Or what, in circles of my acquaintance, finds the name "right livelihood". With all we don't share with the world, with all we here have purportedly secured as a nation, why is it still so very difficult -- even in this country -- for well-intentioned human beings to make satisfying contributions to their society and their own lives? I think about the words of Peter Maurin, one of the founders of the catholic worker movement: his dream was to create a world in which it was "easier for people to be good." A vision we don't seem, individually or collectively, to be nurturing -- or to be able to nurture -- with enough heart. Not enough to go around, anyway.

In the last month I've applied for two jobs here in Abq. Having my fill of less-than-sufficient work over the last decade, I only apply now for positions that are sure to meet the needs of budget and of conscience. Thereby ruling out about 90% of the ads in Albuquerque, which are either soul-numbingly corporate or criminally low-paying, if not both. But there were two last month that could've met those needs. One, a 'farm assistant' for a local nonprofit that links at-risk youth with traditional and progressive agricultural projects. The other, a delivery driver for a local CSA. My cover letter to the first attested to a lifetime around farming and gardening, a 100-hour basic permaculture certificate, a deep admiration for what I know of the organization itself, and my current effort, maintaining a community garden and engaging kids with knowledge of healthy diets and food sources. To the second, I offered an intimate knowledge of the entire metro area with 10 years' professional driving experience, as well as enthusiastic support of their agenda. Neither job ever called.

So this is what I'm wondering: who's my competition for this good work? Who are they calling, if I don't even rate a preliminary contact? I could understand, when I applied last year at a popular nationwide food market opening a new branch in town, that with a rumored 2,000 applicants I didn't stand a chance. But, farm assistant? Really? Are this many good-hearted, simple-living progressive types out of work right now? Is "the economy" really in such bad shape that the general labor category on craigslist has been inundated by a surplus of admin/professionals desperate enough to get their hands dirty? (Or is my resume in even worse shape than I think?) And if there is such a contingent of unemployed "cultural creatives" on the loose, what are they doing all day? What else are they up to during "business hours"? Why don't I hear of their calls for meetings, forums, salons, charettes, free workshops? Or even for more political demonstrations? What are they doing with their time? Are they really finding ways to do the needed work of the world without worrying about how to pay the rent? And what, if they are somehow transcending the practical and the material to engage right livelihood and satisfying activity, is their secret?

Here's my secret, with regard to work: in truth, I don't really care anymore. Last year was the hardest ever, for me, financially and perhaps personally as well. By both measures, I got close enough to zero (below it, at times) to arrive at last at this imminently relieving perspective: ULTIMATELY, IT DOESN'T MATTER. Which is not, for a moment, to speak cynically. It's to speak of release, and the liberation that comes after all else goes. It's to speak about how deep losses refine priorities. And how simplicity finds many paths in to the center (or, by how many paths from the center simplicity finds us). While I would love to give my time and energy to a socially-developing, personally satisfying job, until one decides to give me half a chance I'm pretty happy with pizza. As well as with the work that's my real priority. Which, at every moment, is learning to see, to listen, to reflect the Light. And which, in this moment, is learning to love someone. Not only that, but to accept being loved. To journey into such mysteries as these, such incredibly good and difficult works, I'll gladly give up what little I've still got. Including the need to know how anybody else works it out.