of Canadians overall reported that they had no religion.
At the same time, the different aspects of being human — emotional, physical, mental, social, spiritual — are treated as separate categories. We have a vast variety of places to go for all the parts of ourselves to be taken care of: a therapist, a chiropractor, a medical doctor, a book club, a service club, a church, a meditation centre, a Tai Chi class. Each is usually quite independent of the others. So the workplace is seen as just one more place, to which we bring certain parts of ourselves. No wonder the neighbourhoods we live in often consist of strangers living side by side. We may have no idea at all what the person across the street does for a living, or believes in, or wrestles with. As our society has become more fragmented, so it has become more anonymous.
The result can be a feeling of dislocation and disorientation: where do I belong, and who am I anyway? Am I the person who drives to work and relates efficiently and effectively with those in my field, or am I the spouse and parent who has difficult teenage children, ageing relatives, and a bad back? Which role is the real me? Do they have any point of overlap, or are they different worlds? And what do I do when they spill over into each other?
In the workplace we can create the self-image that we choose: our colleagues or clients rarely know anything about our private lives. But there can be a terrible loss in this — loss of depth, loss of integration, loss of reality. Our work in the world can be out of step with our inner life and longings. It may pay the bills, but at the same time it can cause depression or frustration if our soul is not engaged. It is as though we are leaving part of ourselves at the door when we walk into work.
Fred's story
There are two sides to my work. I am a spouse, father, teacher, researcher; writer, and professor of sociology. As a professor for many years I was quite reserved and formal at the university. Although I love to teach and do research, I didnt often show my true feelings at work. And, although I felt fulfilled in my work, there was another calling that I finally heard. It came from a friend who works for the diocese. She invited me to be on staff for the Niagara Youth Conference. My coworkers (both young and old) didn't know me as a professor; they knew me as a friend, youth worker, and “enthusiastic” guitar player. In this work I was not reserved. I discovered that I loved organizing and working at youth events and playing my twelve-string guitar. I was accepted as a leader with skills - not because I have a PhD or have worked at universities for a long time. In fact, no one even wanted to see my résumé! I was accepted because I genuinely loved the work I truly enjoyed the seamless connection of working at youth events and spirituality. I experienced a strong sense of spirituality doing this work. I also started journaling, presenting journaling workshops, and playing the guitar at Taizé services as a result of my work with youth groups.
Many years have passed since I started working with youth, and when I reflect on the experience I realize that, to a certain degree, my work as a professor has merged with my youth work. I try to bring the fun and spirituality of youth events to my daily work. I try to bring the spontaneity and openness of youth to my work as a professor. Every once in a while when I'm walking on campus, I hear; “Hey, Fred!” from one of the youth who knew me as Fred the Youth Worker and has become a University of Guelph student. These reunions typically involve a long conversation about how things are going and end with a hug. And Fred the Professor thinks that's great.
Self-identity
Our self-identity is now a matter of choice. And we have more choices than ever before. In agrarian society people's identity was largely predetermined, and based on the family and community. You were Robert Smith's son. You would be expected to help your father run the farm and someday take it over. In industrial society identity was found in work. You were a miner and part of a fraternity of those doing the same work. Or you were a factory worker and union member. Today identity is an individually constructed matter. You are a computer programmer. Whether or not you have a family is a side issue. Your parents' work is irrelevant. Your company cannot claim your loyalty or sense of belonging, because you may leave any time you choose and even start a completely different line of work. And your religious or spiritual beliefs are your own. No one is likely to ask you about them at work. You can choose to be a member of a church or not — there is very little social pressure; in fact there is probably more pressure not to go. You may choose to search for a spirituality that fits your sense of self.
The point of this book is not to bemoan the decline of organized religion in Canada. The point is to try to offer the reader an understanding of spirituality that can be integrated into life and work, so that a sense of God can develop in the midst of daily activities. This in turn can heal some of the fragmentation we live with, and root our core identity on something solid and dependable. The spirit or soul has classically been understood as residing deep inside, where the real “me” is, beyond the projections and pretenses and problems of our lives. In this ever-changing world we badly need to rediscover the soul in order to anchor our lives on a firm, integrating foundation.
Questions
What are the different compartments of your life?
How porous are the walls between them? For example, many of us bring some of our work home. How often do you bring part of your home life to work, and how does that feel?
Is spirituality a part of your work?
---CHAPTER 2--- Workplace Woes
Why do we work?
This may sound like a silly question. There is a sense of necessity about work: it is just something we have to do. We need to earn money to buy groceries, pay off the mortgage or pay rent, pay for our children's orthodontic needs, hockey gear, and on and on. Our ancestors had to work to stay alive, literally. If they did not hunt, fish, and grow enough food in the summer, they would starve in the winter.
Farmers understand this sort of work. They do what they need to do each day. For some days this means working long hours to bring in a crop before the rain or frost. Other days there is time to chat with neighbours over the fence. Farmers work with nature — they know that they cannot ignore the weather. Some things cannot be done in the rain so another task is quickly chosen — there is always lots to do.
For most of us, our work is not dependent on nature the way it is for farmers. Most of us do the same work whether it rains or shines. We don't need to look to the sky to decide what to do each day, although we may need to shovel snow from our driveways in order to get to work. Yet working in an office often feels as much a necessity as toiling in a field. We are still working for our survival, though in a more abstract way than our great-grandparents or our agricultural neighbours. We are working to stay afloat, get ahead, be secure. The thought of being without an income terrifies us as much as the prospect of being without food or shelter terrified our forebears. Work provides us with much that we consider essential.
But at a deeper level work offers far more than mere survival. If it were just a matter of making money, we would all compete for the same jobs — the ones that pay the best. But we have a society with thousands of different jobs, some paying well and some paying poorly. People seek work that interests them and fits with who they are, because work is a fundamental part of our identity. We gain satisfaction from our work, not just an income. We experience a sense of contributing to society through our work. Many people pursue higher education because it will help them find jobs that are challenging and that mesh well with their sense of identity.
