There was a time when leaving the corporate world to live differently was not at all straightforward for me. Some people would say—and they surely have a point—what, are you nuts? But I was someone who had always worked–starting as a kid giving guitar lessons–until we moved from Silicon Valley to Portland. With a hiatus here and there, I was a committed businesswoman. At the time of the move I had my own small consulting company and it mattered to me. A lot.
When a merger forced my last client to back out of a contract, I suddenly had a lot of time on my hands and the fallout caught me by surprise.
I started to explore organic vegetable gardening. Portland was the perfect place for it. Everywhere I looked it was lush, and the farmers’ markets showed off the kind of bounty even a newbie like me could yearn for.
One evening Patrick came home from work with stories about his day. After a bit he said, so tell me about your day. I didn’t tell as much as gush: about Portland’s legendary commitment to eating locally, about organic gardening, about the passion of the people at the gardeners’ hotline.
(You see, that day I had discovered that the folks who manned the phones at the organic gardeners’ hotline actually cared that cabbage worms were annihilating my crop. They made appropriate noises about slugs in flagrante delicto on the chard. They understood my frustration with renegade moles around the arugula.)
But the more I nattered on about using hot garlic-juice to get rid of cabbage worms, the more I saw Patrick kind of checking out. Of course he was checking out. What normal person gives a flying fig about cabbage worms!
Nonetheless, I was miffed. I went from chuffed to miffed. (Here I must tip my cap to Janet at Plantalicious for teaching me the great word “chuffed” on her U.K. gardening blog.)
However, beyond chuffed to miffed, I was beginning to perceive a big problem. I was feeling powerless without a job and didn’t know what to do about it. My new experiences of growing food felt incredibly real to me, much more real than negotiating deals in panty hose and girl shoes.
The first time I harvested food for our dinner, the first time I went outside for berries for breakfast, the first time I started veggies from seed, I felt fulfilled in ways I hadn’t expected. When I fell asleep on the porch swing with dirt under my nails, I was happy.
To my surprise though, not bringing home a paycheck really bugged me. My self confidence took a big hit. I wasn’t sure who I was without a take-charge job. I just didn’t know how I was supposed to proceed with a new life and I started to imagine that Patrick was having thoughts about it too.
With our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary coming up, we planned a trip to France. Walking the streets of a beautiful city at night has always made us fall in love all over again.
One evening while walking Paris, Patrick and I got into a fight. Truth be told, I went looking for that fight. The undercurrent of doubt hadn’t faded away and I began to suspect that working or not working was just the tip of a very big personal iceberg. You know, a Protestant Work Ethic problem. One of those things where you realize that you had better throw the ghost of old Martin Luther the hell out of your life now or you’ll never have any fun.
At long last, I was becoming the person I always wanted to be.
Still I needed to understand how Patrick felt about my not earning a paycheck. I stewed in my own juices watching for any opportunity to find out.
Over the years, we’ve had friction about maps and directions. Never mind that we call Patrick “Lieutenant Map”—because he has the maps of dozens of cities in his head—I felt determined to demonstrate my newly honed orienteering skills. Outside the metro station, I stopped to read the map, but Patrick said—just follow me—and that set the match to the kindling.
Bristling like a foxtail in your socks, I shot back: “No I won’t just follow you. I can get around this city just fine and not only that, but as soon as we get back, I’m getting another job.”
Patrick stopped. “What? I don’t understand, you don’t need to do that. I mean, you can, but why not just wait a few months until the merger is settled. Something will come up.”
“Because we don’t have equal—I don’t know—equal power here.”
Patrick looked as if I’d hit him. “Power? Equal power? What are you talking about? We’re friends,” he protested.
“I know we’re friends, but I’m not used to this shift in our relationship. I don’t feel my strength anymore—where is my strength in your eyes?”
Later that evening in our hotel room, Patrick brought up the subject. “You have no idea how much you give me,” he said gently. “I mean, I can’t always relate to you when I come home from work—you are in another world. But I love what you do. You are writing, and doing incredible volunteer stuff, growing a vegetable garden, consulting. You are building a new hybrid life for yourself—changing directions and making it work—I’m watching you, you know, I look to you. In a way, it is you who are leading us both now,” his voice cracked a little.
“Listen,” he went on, “we will always have to try and figure these things out. We will always have to figure out the finances. But you are building an inner life. You are building our emotional world, the one we hope to live in more and more as we both get older. There is no greater power than that.”
We looked at each other for a long time. All that business competitiveness of mine started to fray. I thought about the tapestry of lives where the warp and the weft are equally essential. I thought that in any long-term marriage, people and circumstances will always change. The question was: could I change? Could I grow in ways I’d never dreamed?
After a late supper, we went out and walked the streets of Paris.
Photo credit: Panoramas via photopin cc
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Portions of the above essay are excerpted from “Is Anybody in Charge Here?” by Susan Troccolo in the essay collection entitled “Chocolate for a Lover’s Heart”, editor Kay Allenbaugh, Simon & Schuster 1999
bobby tumbleweed says
I’ve witnessed the ‘miffed’ Susie, and a few figurative ‘kitty cat swipes’….some low growling. My own journey of reconciling feelings of powerlessness culminated with the realization that I am not in control. I’m not in charge. In this discovery, I found that I am indeed in charge of quite a bit….just don’t acknowledge it to the universe that you know. It likes to dismantle stuff once somethings been created. The universe gets bored easily. Don’t hint that you’re aware of this. It’ll get busy with something else and let you be. Treat the universe as a soulmate, and you’ll enjoy the relationship….forever.
susan troccolo says
Some low growling….ah yes. I cop to it. I have sure witnessed the dismantling. We are about to celebrate our THIRTY-FIFTH anniversary plus five years of clean cancer tests. Great reasons to celebrate, eh? Nice to see you here Bobby T.
KL says
Very nicely written. I know the feeling of not having a solid job as I was in that position for couple of months. But, there are so many things to learn and enjoy in life, and we can make profession out of all of those. You learned chuffed and I today learned about warp and weft :-).
Susan Troccolo says
Thank you KL, I always appreciate your stopping by.
John Shuman says
I was moved by your essay Susie- I want to get “Chocolate for a lover’s heart” (great title)- You can imagine how the work ethic is quite alien to my experience….I who have NEVER had a full-time job..Oh yes a year’s run is that I suppose but there was always…”hmm-this is going to end soon- then what?”. This is a mixed bag. There is a wonderful relaxed freedom to time off ( especially if the next job is on the horizon) and a joyous relief when one is anxious to move on from work that is not “working”. But recently I’ve had jobs end that I wanted to go on- artistic and personal bonds are made and then….they disappear. I suppose I always can and do use the hiatus. When working it is so completely utterly involving that I need to get back to home base as it were and recharge. And obtaining and starting new work is in some ways like the first time…exciting and horrifying both!
I just love the comment you received: “Treat the universe as a soulmate.” I’m half through a current hiatus and I think that thought will get me through the rest of it….
Susan Troccolo says
You know John, I think that the creative world has it’s own challenges with identity and work. As an actor, you’ve probably confronted that your entire working life. As you say, a “mixed bag.” The artists I know as well struggle with the challenge of whether or not to get something to fund their real vocation and life’s calling. Hence all the actors waiting on your table in NYC! Anyway, I love hearing from you…hope the hiatus doesn’t last too long and glad to hear you liked Bobby Tumbleweed’s comment. I did too. I’ll never forget “studying” your Italian part with you here at Kenny and Zuke’s.
Marilyn Marshall says
It is early morning and I am awake too early but restless. Much is going on and essentially my world is changing. You have put a voice to my discomfort. I stopped reading several times in amazement. Your story is so well written and although the personal details are different you helped me identify my feeling. I have worked for many years in a position where I have power and connection and secure in the knowledge that I m making a real difference. I am beyond the “retirement age” and yet my mind and heart are much younger and almost crave more… I have long said that I would just keep working until I couldn’t put one foot in front of the other. Well, we get what we put out into the universe don’t we? My left knee has crumbled into bone and arthritis with no cartilage to be found. Knee replacement surgery is scheduled for 2 weeks from today… 8 weeks off of work. Lovely, and yet… my sweetie Jack wants me to retire. Better yet he is making it possible for me to retire and do what I want. Wait, what is it I want? If I retire, there goes my paycheck. I don’t want to lose that power… I fear becoming lost in the retirement world and sitting around growing ever more sloppy and/or lazy with no admirable skills and ultimately not making a difference for anyone. Reading Patrick’s response to you took my breath away. Jack and I are very different. He is the number person and knows how to make and use his money. I am the people person and enjoy meeting people and building relationships. I need more of his skills I know this but I can see that he is benefitting from mine maybe a bit more. We need and learn from each other. We supplement each others life skills. My cancer has disappeared and I am determined it will never return; it is just not allowed. My knee will soon be healed and I can actually walk pain free again soon. Although I love my job it actually has been taking me away from the gift of my “new” relationship with my Jack. Thank you for reminding me that a job is a job but love is forever…
Susan Troccolo says
Oh Marilyn, you have taken *my* breath away with your story. Thank you for writing, but more than that, thank you for understanding exactly what I had hoped to say in the post. I think others reading what you have written will be as effected as I was. The last line of your comment is very moving. I wish you the very best with your knee surgery coming up. And again, thank you for being the inspiration you are.
Marilyn says
Susie, you have touched a chord (and touched so deftly, too!) with many of us who have been in the same or similar position. You and Patrick both showed tremendous insight into what a rewarding life is about.
Susan Troccolo says
Thank you so very much Marilyn–for reading, for being such an unfailing visitor to my young site, for your thoughts about Paddy and me. I am deeply appreciative.
Donna@Gardens Eye View says
Susie what an emotional essay so full of real life…upon retiring I will be coming to grips with myself….as I look forward to the adventure and journey I am am bit apprehensive. So I will be looking to throw Martin Luther and anyone else aside!
susan troccolo says
I think you’ve nailed it: coming to grips with oneself. That’s just what it feels like. Like so many women, I’ve had different starts and stops with a career, so you’d think I’d have it down by now. But no. Glad you liked the Martin Luther, Protestant Work Ethic thing….one of my favorite parts. Always good to hear from you Donna.
Shelley says
Susie, I stayed at home for many years when our children were young so I can identify with the adjustment of changing roles and the lack of a pay cheque. Somehow you muddle through it. Communication always helps.