I’ve been thinking
a lot about a question we often ask strangers; ”...and what do you do?”
La Isla Bonita
As a family
when we go on holiday, somewhere hot with a pool – we always start with the
rather selfish intention of not really speaking to anyone, to dull the pain of
the fact we can’t afford a private villa with a pool, except once in Menorca.
Inevitably,
you do get talking, a few pleasantries and then usually, “And what do you do?”
I can answer
that really quickly, with an answer which describes a role and a purpose
instantly. I’ve become smarter at
judging my poolside companions and tailoring my response, I’ve made the mistake
of saying ‘Social Worker’ a couple of times...now I might say, “I work for a
small charity” or something vague (but worthy!)
I could answer, ‘Renegade Priest’ or ‘Lumberjack’ they’d at least be an
opening gambit for a conversation.
It is a
great question though, “And what do you do?” gets to the heart of the purpose
of your life. A nicer, more open way of
asking “What is the point of your
existence?”
Isn’t she lovely? Isn’t she
wonderful?
If you are lucky enough to meet the Queen - and
if you are prepared to bow and scrape to the apparent superiority, accept the
divine rights, ignore the sack loads of ill-gotten inherited wealth and brush
aside the systemic national inequality her office embodies – you may discover
that the Queen is also a fan of the question.
That is
probably treason, or at least something to do with GDPR. I’m sure she is lovely.
The Point
Anyway you
can see from the cartoons where this is going.
What would people we support say in response to that question?
Would people
even ask? Is that because the holiday makers would not expect people to do
anything?
How quickly
would people’s answers describe a positive role, a sense of purpose, some
meaning?
We routinely
organise people’s lives into a series of often random activities – in order to
prove to regulators that WE are busy, we have to prove that people we support
are busy, so we encourage them to be busy, so activity planners are created - any
empty slot on an activity planner has to be filled with an activity. Busy is
the goal. Repeat. Review. Repeat.
A full week
or a fulfilled life? If I wrote out my own activity planner, my weeks are often
pretty similar and often routine. But
they are also filled with love, struggle, fun, anxiety, chance and ultimately
purpose. Often ill defined purpose, and unfulfilled purpose, but purpose
nonetheless.
I asked
someone we support that question – he is an artist, accomplished, talented and
has exhibited. He didn’t say “I’m an
artist” he gave me a run down of his weekly activities. Perhaps I asked it badly, perhaps he’s not
interested in being an artist.
Going back
to the poolside, I can visualise a bit of chatter around the pool, “see that
bloke over there? He’s a Renegade Priest” – or – “oh yeah him he’s a
lumberjack”
“him? Oh
yeah, he does some activities...”
And what do you do? feels like a question worth
exploring though. That might become my
purpose for a bit.
Songs in the Key of Citizenship;
I’m a
lumberjack
La Isla
Bonita
Isn’t She
Lovely
Past the
Point of rescue
