I feel thankful to have been occupied in endeavours that for much of my life have felt meaningful. By meaningful I mean engaging in projects and work that aligned with what I believe was of value. When younger there was probably a strong dose of idealism in my thinking. For many in today’s world work of any kind is the key to survival. Even in the developed world the rise of artificial intelligence is challenging the future of even skilled professions. My musings on meaningful employment probably come from a position of priviledge.

That said, working life as it was and as I would have liked it were not always the same. It has not been plain sailing all the time. For some a chosen career might, over the years, show a clear progression. That has not been the case for me. On a few occasions I have experienced unemployment. That was like trying to find a way through a disorienting jungle. Sometimes it lasted a few weeks and other times for longer. Stress and anxiety were never far away. Worries over reduced income and grief over the loss of regular work routines. Probably most of all was the wearying assault on my sense of self. Not having regular work for some months made me realise how much my identity is tied up with what I do.

Looking for work became the work. Relaxing when seeking employment was extremely difficult. When society seems to say you are not part of the ‘economically useful’ taking a break or holiday can be loaded with guilt. That should not be the case but being ‘out of work’, certainly within the Western worldview, carries a stigma. The best way to relax was to find something that could distract me mentally from the situation. Do something practical, take some exercise (including running, surprise, surprise!). Chat or pray with a friend.

During that time relating to others could be difficult. When meeting new people often the first question innocently asked after giving your name is “What do you do?”. On most occasions this can be an engaging conversation starter. Maybe an opportunity to learn from one another’s experiences. However, without work, a friendly ‘what do you do’ was both threatening and embarrassing. Inviting feelings of guilt or worthlessness. Did I have to define myself by what I do? Or even by what I have done in the past. Could we not just talk about the weather or the news of the day? Anything but that which touches my bruised sense of self. Without work prospects even well intentioned questions were sensitive. ‘Where are you looking for work?’ would be like poking an open wound. 

Looking back on these emotionally painful times I see the challenge is to be honest. Both with myself and with those I met. Let my ‘yes be yes and my no, no’. It is not necessary to pretend things are better than they are. Whether employed or not my well being does not depend on people thinking well of me. Being authentic comes from a sense of security. A place of safety derived from having my deepest needs met.

The real sin is to deny God’s first love for me, to ignore my original goodness. Because without claiming that first love and original goodness for myself I lose touch with my true self and embark on the destructive search among the wrong people and in the wrong places for what can only be found in the house of my Father. The parable of the prodigal son is a story that speaks about a love that existed before any rejection was possible and that will still be there after all rejections have taken place.

The Return of the Prodigal Son, Henri Nouwen