Satisfaction

I’m smiling. I just got off the phone after speaking with my 86-year old mother. I speak to her daily, sometimes twice a day, about nothing. What is nothing? Nothing is the little things you talk about but don’t think about all the time: the weather, books we’d like to read, whose anniversary it is, additions to the shopping list, memories. Occasionally we discuss a bill to pay or someone who needs to be contacted, but apart from that, our conversations are pleasant, a touchstone of the day. They are satisfying.

Swallowtail Butterfly on Zinnia, © JustHavingFun

Zinnias took over my garden, blooming madly. Their bright red heads welcome butterflies and bumblebees, neighbors and delivery people. Even a hummingbird visited one day, tasting some nectar then flitting away faster than I could reach for my camera! Looking at their beauty and lushness is satisfying.

I love a good cup of coffee. Savoring the aroma in the steam evokes a symphony of pleasure. If I add milk, the white stream swirls into the deep brown elixir in a satisfying way. Coffee drinking is more satisfying when shared with friends; I associate coffee with sociability and relationships. Just thinking about enjoying a coffee out with a friend (after the pandemic) fills me with anticipation and satisfaction.

Satisfying Coffee Break, © JustHavingFun

Where does satisfaction come from? This quote impressed me enough to write it down when I first heard it a few years ago:

“Career satisfaction doesn’t come from what you do. It comes from who you get to be while you’re doing it. And the beauty is, who you get to be is the real you.”

—Laura Berman Fortgang ⁽¹⁾

For so long I thought about satisfaction largely in material terms. My identity depended upon where I went to school, what degrees I earned, my job, my salary, what I purchased, how I provided for my family, my financial security. Status, prestige, and esteem follow from those measurable markers of achievement in my hyper-commercial society. But my career was unexpectedly derailed, I don’t have much materially compared to the expectations of my society, and my finances seem shaky — none of which deprive me from experiencing satisfaction.

I believe all satisfaction, not just in one’s career, comes from being the real you. Finding who the real you is can take quite some time, perhaps occurring from a sea change in situations like a global pandemic, a spiritual revelation, or simply from maturity. Satisfaction comes from the sensual joys of hearing a loved one’s voice, observing color, scents, and nature, and enjoying a full range of feelings.

How can I compute humor? What yardstick measures delight? Two videos of babies continually delight me. In one, talking twin babies babble at each other. Perhaps they tickle my funny bone because they remind me of my own baby twins. In the other, four babies share rounds of hugs. More twins (or quads?), more hugs all around. Who doesn’t laugh when babies laugh? Squee!

True satisfaction lies in relationships and experiences. These intangibles — compassion, authenticity, optimism, loyalty, sensitivity, awareness — provide lasting value and cannot be stripped or lost. I get to be the real me when I stop to savor a conversation, gaze on my garden, waft the scent of coffee toward my waiting nostrils, or reminisce about when my children were young. When I remember this, I am being my real self, and in that, I have the greatest satisfaction.

—

1. “Find your dream job without ever looking at your resume.” TEDxBocaRaton, Published on May 7, 2015. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfNX1cHk-fE, Retrieved November 5, 2018.

COVID World

It’s been 11 months since my last post. That’s enough silence, enough thoughts and words sent out to universe and not voiced.

I’ve had nothing to say, not even on my blog. In March 2020, when we went into lockdown, COVID-19 abruptly muted my voice, tucked me into my apartment, removed the spice from my palate. I’m voluntarily sequestered, safe among my weary possessions, washing hands and sanitizing doorknobs. My clutter has clutter; cobwebs shroud my thoughts.

COVID Syndrome: long bouts confined to home overcast with isolation and withdrawal. I avoid the news. I followed it like everyone else when lockdown first started mid-March. I shed tears over the daily death reports. Today’s reporting, ever increasing rates of infection and misinformation, cause my spirit to plummet. Too many souls departed this earth. So tragic, such a loss. Pain is anesthesia if allowed in.

I don’t go out. Hardly at all. I have health considerations and care for an elderly parent. Community volunteers, “angels”, shopped for me at first. I ordered in groceries and stocked up on staples. Now, in July, I go the kosher market about every 2 to 3 weeks. Nowhere else to go other than dropping off Mom’s groceries, my car sits idle for days at a time. Taking out the trash became an exciting activity.

“Happiness… is the right career” brochure, 1966.
Archives of Ontario, CC BY-NC 2.0

Long-term unemployment prepared me well for this new status. For over two years I’ve sat in front of my computer scanning job openings, sending out applications, waiting for incoming email to affirm I am wanted, desirable, and skilled enough — though I know my worth. Unemployment benefits ran dry a long time ago. Some COVID relief benefits elude me because I did not lose a job because of the pandemic. Fewer companies have openings during the lockdown. Still, I practice a tedious routine: tweak the resume, craft a cover letter, send the application, brainstorm with my job counselor. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Savings nearly depleted and no spare money to spend, I pinch pennies assiduously. Some charities provided gift cards. It feels bad to be so needy. The economy will not flourish from my paltry purchases alone.

Depression, my longstanding companion, clouds my vision, saps my strength. The toxic-to-me heat that my body cannot tolerate poisons any desire to step outside. Exercise? Not a priority though it might help. I’m complacent to drift. It’s a crummy attitude, but I’m being honest, and that’s inherent to the Syndrome. Otherwise, I don’t want to set foot outside; it’s too darned hot.

I’ve already slept through a Wednesday, seeing 6:30 on my clock and thinking, “Aw rats, up early again,” before going to the bathroom and returning to bed not realizing it was 6:30 p.m. not 6:30 a.m.! The days melt into each other. Thank G-d for Shabbos, the anchor of my week!

My data use soars. Yay internet! One bright spot: Zoom classes light my days. I’ve learned so much! Ravelry, the online knitting community, provides me with hours of creative imagery. Elsewhere politics, not science, muddies discussions and public opinion flares with condemnation, sarcasm, and impatience. Trained in public health, I share scientific information, writing opinions countering the falsehoods. Otherwise intelligent people spout such nonsense and conspiracies that I wonder if I’m living in a different universe. People believe what they want to see.

Window Cats. COVID creations. © JustHavingFun

Strangely, I’m somewhat content.

“I’m the happiest depressed person I know,” I quip. It’s true. I have faith that we will get through this dreadful time, bruised but stronger. I’ve witnessed incredible acts of kindness in my community and in the world. I witness the hand of G-d in stories of recovery, marriages and births, selfless acts, and scientific discoveries. I can still laugh, say a kind word, and help a friend.

Everyone knows someone who perished or sickened. Everyone hopes and prays for release. We’re sensitized to the suffering of others in a personal way. COVID-19 brought us together out of the confines of our communities and around the world. “Together apart” is more than a motto.

I know effective treatments will be forthcoming soon, the economy will recover, and factionalism reigns whatever political party prevails. Public discord will espouse new causes. This experience is a milestone in history like none before. Global in its extent, coronavirus brought us together as a world community, erasing some borders and emphasizing our mutual humanity. At least, I hope so.

I know that I will get a job.

Living through the pandemic carves character. Living after the pandemic depends upon what we’ve absorbed about our roles in the world. Living in my own skin requires I nurture that spark of Good bequeathed to my soul.

Tenets to live by: Gratitude. Hope. Kindness. Appreciation. Respect. Health. Prayer. Breathe in the Good.

My voice may have been muted, eyes clouded, and thoughts clogged with cobwebs, but it’s transitory. I have hope for the future and faith in G-d. I will emerge from my apartment eventually, more contemplative and patient.

I will survive COVID Syndrome. I have something to say.