Labor Day Weekend approaches, again. And the question of work and worth looms on my mind. I detach myself from the ridiculous unmerited salaries earned by the sports stars I watch (go Red Sox!) as teacher friends, spiritual leaders, activists and beloveds un and under employed face great challenges in this society where food and shelter and health care are not afforded to all. I rationalize my work as “helping people” most of the time, too. But my heart sinks at the consumerist culture, while I lament my own desire for a fancier hair cut, “newer” (than 1996) car and a sushi feast at the gourmet spot across time.
Being a modern woman in this part of the world means participating in a whole array of industries and decisions every day that hurt my head and soul. I don’t live very high on the grid. We have one 15 year old car. Buy locally grown produce. Seek out recycled goods and compost everything. I try to be a conscious consumer much of the time and struggle to make choices that reflect my values while managing a modest budget for our household.
I have so much. And still resent wall street and bankers exploiting families like mine who are living on a lot less “real” income for more labor that 20 years ago. I am angry at the exploitation of people and resources by the titans of industry making decisions for profits over justice. I wonder what legacy comes from this age of empire…where my safety and security feels so very fragile today.
Writing Prompt: I find worth in…