I am grateful to count myself among those who were taught at a young age to value my work for things other than the financial payment that sometimes accompanied the labor. Growing up, I thought it some sort of twisted game my father would play—assigning me tasks that appeared completely random in their fiscal recompense.
Completing a task one day might be rewarded by a trip to the movies, while completing a task on another day would be followed by a lukewarm can of Campbell’s soup (and not even the thick and chunky kind). Repairing the riding lawn mower after my older brother intentionally ran over a rock outcropping was considered an allowance-worthy task. Painting the house required an estimate and a handshake in advance. Fixing the car was considered “bonding time” and came with no financial compensation whatsoever. And changing the oil on the work truck was most often chalked up as some sort of favor, or maybe a quid pro quo (before I understood the concept).
Through all of these psychological trials, I do remember distinctly coming away with the concept of valuing my labor on multiple non-compensatory levels—the satisfaction of a job well done, so to speak. It meant something for me to be good at something. It felt good to finish a task, and to know I had finished it well. Somehow adding finished value to the planet lent me meaning and purpose. My father’s praise meant something as well—something quite rich actually.
Somehow I was taught that our labor has deep, spiritual meaning. That our relationship with the earth and our relationships with others are deeply entwined with our purposeful existence. And when we complete tasks, even ones for payment, we are participating in this purposeful existence.
But when I look around today, this belief system seems outmoded. Work is just work. We do it to make money. To pay the bills and hope we have enough left over for an ATV and a twelve pack. I suppose this is the inevitable result of living in a society that measures its successes, failures, and overall health via the singular metric of Gross Domestic Profit. In this sort of system our purposeful existence is defined by our overall contribution to the nation’s GDP. In such an existence, profit greatly outweighs any other consideration when it comes to our labor.
And once we arrive at the “money-money-money” phase, there’s not much of a stretch from there to the “cheating for it is better than working for it” phase of cultural advancement. And yet, so many cultural and political pundits seem completely taken aback by this “sudden but inevitable betrayal.” (Yes, that’s a Hoban “Wash” Washburne shoutout.)
Here I am, trying to raise my two sons to value their labor in the middle of a society that stresses that profit is the only point. And in a world driven by profit, only a sucker puts in an honest day’s work, right? Hmmm, now that I think of it, is that why I became a writer? Nah…I’m still good, I’m still good.
If You Wish to Start Reading The Green Ones…
[Click here to start at the beginning.]
Thanks so much for taking the time to read these scenes of Boundaries, Season 2 of The Green Ones. I’ll be publishing FREE daily scenes from The Green Ones until…I die…or something terrible happens. Seriously, I’ve got over 100 scenes written so far, and I’ll be writing more until the story reaches its natural ending. You are totally welcome to read the entire story for FREE! If at any point you decide you would rather finish the story in ebook or print format, just click the buttons below and you can do that as well. If you enjoy reading the serial releases, BUT you would also like to support me as a writer (my kids need wine!) please subscribe to my premium content for bonus scenes, exclusives, and insider access to my process. And of course, I’d be grateful if you would share this post with any of your reader friends who you think would enjoy The Green Ones. Happy reading!