Dear non-readership,
Today I decided to peruse what the all-knowing google had to say about working professionals who left the workplace to enter the mommy-sphere, interestingly it had much to say by once professional women who, though they could not deny that their home years were worthwhile, they must bemoan the fact that their careers had either atrophied completely or had been reduced to something of a pre-feminist state. Many were divorced, middle-aged, unfulfilled, and bitter about what the years and their seemingly selfless choices had wrought. While I am new to the 'professional becomes professional mom' scene, the tone of many of these articles struck me as strange. I am not so sure the problem is stay-at-home moms that lose their edge in the workplace but rather a problem common to humanity since the advent of thought and convenience, at least since we had the luxury of doing something besides trying to simply survive. Much of the pain these women seem to share is their loss of identity and a lack of feeling valuable. But more on this later.
First, I wonder if I am a good judge of this phenomenon, while it is true that I have a doctorate and have worked for many years in a professional medical field as the main income earner in the family, am I one to judge someone who has surrendered a more lucrative and glamorous field than my own? Most of the prestigious ladies whom these articles portray are involved in finance, business, or law. They wear suits, makeup, and high heels; they have a sense of dignity and power impossible in my chosen profession as my patients outweigh me ten to one. I wear boots and coveralls and usually accent it with more than a little manure. These women must give up fashion and cleanliness for sweatpants, spit up, diaper explosions, and boogers which are actually probably less disgusting than my average day at the office. I loved my job, but I was not my job. It really annoyed me when all people wanted to talk about was what I did for a living, rather than who I was as a person. Perhaps this is where the conflict arises: these women found their identity in their jobs; work was who they were and then they tried to transfer this same mentality to their home life and still came away feeling disenchanted.
Of course these feelings are not specific to stay at home moms but have been found in nearly every human heart since the advent of dissatisfaction. Ever heard of a mid-life crisis? We are seeing an epidemic of depression in Western societies and I doubt it has much to do with trading in the brief case for a diaper bag. The problem is that we look inside ourselves for value and meaning, and finding nothing within, we try and find it in other things be it job, kid, romance, hobbies, sports, etc. These women, I think, would be as dissatisfied with life even had they remained in the workforce or had joined the ranks of the aging career women who had given up hearth and home for 'success,' only to find it cold, lonely, and fickle. The answer is not more family friendly careers, a new love interest, more or less kids, more money, a better house or car, more or less feminism, a better degree, a new job, or anything else 'under the sun.'
Our problem is that we are human. Short of changing species (note the popularity of wizards, werewolves, vampires, etc. in recent literature and film), we are stuck with dealing with our humanity. As human people, we long for meaning, for purpose, for significance and we have the inborn propensity to look for it in all the wrong places. It cannot be found in other people, in animals, in hobbies, in work, in power, in experiences, or possessions. We want to be immortal beings with purpose and direction but are stymied by our mortal bodies (ever see a commercial for a drug, supplement, therapy, moisturizer, or lifestyle to combat aging?) and fickle minds. Why are we not content like dogs to live our day and die without regret? Why do we strive after something more only to fall short and live in bitterness and regret or despair? These ponderings have wracked the heart of every mortal man. What is the purpose of life? Is there even a point? And no, the answer is not 42 (sorry geek sidetrack).
There is an old thesis, written thousands (yes thousands) of years ago that wrestles with these very sentiments. It was not written by a stay at home mom but rather by a man (yes, the author is undoubtedly male but still human as far as we can tell), a man who had everything his heart desired and more, yet he was still not satisfied. He had tried women, drugs, wealth, power, and wisdom, all to no avail. The world is not enough, will never be enough. Our value must come from without, not within, it must be given not taken. We can never do enough to make ourselves significant in the unseeing eyes of an indifferent universe. Despair not, for there is an answer to the riddle; peace for the discontented soul. For eternity is rooted in the hearts of men though their bodies slog through the mires of time. If we learn to see things from an eternal perspective, we can escape the transience and pointlessness of our meager existences and work for something that truly matters.
Our despairing ancient found it in simple faith, faith that man did not make himself nor was he alone in the cosmos. Rather that God had wrought man in His own image, had given him meaning and purpose and a destiny and only therein can we be content and find out what life really is all about. For there is no sense striving after things that do not last forever. Curious? Go read the book of Ecclesiastes found in the Old Testament of the Bible and read the timeless words for yourself. Even more curious? The ancient proposes an answer but gives little idea as to the finding thereof, but the story is far from over. The book of John in the New Testament is your next reading assignment if you have made it this far. There is an answer if we are willing to look for it. No amount of personal or professional success will fill that hole in your life, but there is something that will.
No comments:
Post a Comment