A friend of mine recently posited an interesting observation: that people often work through childhood issues by way of their chosen professions. She shared that her father always started projects around the house but never finished them, and that her home felt like a construction site. She is now training to be an architect (and has worked in the home construction / design world for many years already) and commented that “fixing people’s homes is soothing to me.” Connecting the dots is not difficult. Just earlier that day, another friend had talked about the long-time acrimony in her family related to differing political views. She is a YA novelist and it occurred to me that her first novel is a Romeo and Juliet story in which the two families are divided by politics, and love in the end conquers all. Again, not challenging to follow the breadcrumbs.
I recognize that not all of us have as much agency in selecting our own careers. And sometimes, a job is just a job. And that’s fine! I still tire of the prevalent message that our careers must fulfill us in some profound way. I have some friends who are pursuing careers fueled by passion, and I have others who are satisfied with a job that puts a roof over their heads and does not extend beyond 5 PM. I admire both. I think sometimes ambient culture forgets that there is a lot to be said for an impermeable wall between work life and home life.
Still, I find my friend’s theory intriguing. I spent some time reflecting on my own chosen vocation from this lens. I observed that my twin interests in writing and entrepreneurship were shaped (nurtured!) by early patrons I have written about many times over. Were it not for my mother, grandfather, uncles, and a few teachers urging me to submit my work to competitions, to “keep writing…!”, and to take writing classes, I don’t think I would be here. Those “early wins” spurred me on, normalized and substantiated what would be dismissed as “wool gathering” later in my life. But I was pot-committed by then. Decriers could not deter me thanks to an early foundation in respecting the craft.
I also remember well a conversation with my Dad (an attorney) in his wood workshop behind my childhood home when I was maybe eight. He worked long hours at a high stakes job and once traveled 50 weeks of the year. He would retreat on the weekends to that workshop where he would happily work with his hands, building bookshelves, repairing things. I recall standing in the door frame, watching him, and he told me: “Build something. You don’t build anything with law.” I internalized that command. I have always been drawn to working in small, entrepreneurial settings where I can see — quantify — the output of a single day of labor.
Perhaps, then, in some way, I am living out the wishes and values of my parents. Which tracks, you know? Eldest daughter and all. At 38, I can’t bear the thought of disappointing my parents.
I can’t say I much mind, of course. I am deeply fortunate for this perch. I love what I do.
But I also observe that my work life is informed by elements beyond my parents. I am a worrier by nature, and I find writing soothing in that it “fixes” and “locks in” the wild and unknowable. It staunches loss. It stops time. It runs against those forces that fray and obscure. Writing, for me, is an act of preservation. I wrote elsewhere that “When I write about the past, and particularly those beloved deceased who belong to it, I am able for a moment to unstrap myself from the present. I find things lost. Sometimes these unearthings are only shadow and dust: there are details, for example, of my friend Elizabeth that have atrophied to the point of disintegration. I mourn those degradations intensely. I wish I had written them down when the grief was keener and the memory sharper. It is, I realize, a mad task, to believe that I might somehow resurrect her in her entirety through language. But it can sometimes feel that way, when I am sitting at my screen, and she appears on the page wearing my own words.”
Writing is, in other words, a roborant.
What about you? What might your chosen career say about you and forces from your childhood?
Post-Scripts.
+On encouragement from my grandfather.
+On pursuing a career in the humanities versus the sciences.
Shopping Break.
+Recently heard that Lumify eye drops are a major beauty secret — I just ordered myself. (Maybe sort of similar to having really bright white teeth?)
+Contemplating making another knitwear investment this season, possibly with something from the small, female-founded business Kilte — I love this funky rainbow colored one and this classic cashmere blend one in ivory.
+OK, these embellished slingbacks are fab — and under $100.
+Love this sherpa “lady jacket.”
+Chic quilted mittens at a great price.
+THIS GAP SWEATER has entered the chat. Wow!
+Are you warm-weather bound? Pack a cute woven tote like this or this…!
+Fun little mushroom necklace.
+These hot pink velvet pants are now under $80.
+I think I need this Dudley Stephens in the black. Been wearing so much black this season!
+LV vibes for $12.
+Totally obsessed with this metallic jumper dress. Love how they styled it, too!
+Into this cheerful striped button down.
+Have you heard of beauty brand DIBS? I’m intrigued by this award-winning dual-sided blush/bronzer stick.
+Found some moon boots for girls on sale!