time & money

As in, given a choice, which would you choose?

Thanks to the “economic downturn” I now only work 4 days a week, and consequently, I make less money. Even before the New Job Math, a few people had left, a few had been let go and like everywhere else, job duties are being absorbed willy-nilly and everyone is expected to do anything to keep the company afloat. The corporate party line on the 4 day work week is a quid pro quo. Less Work = Less Money.

The reality, however, is that a “career” is essentially about fitting an infinite amount of work into a finite amount of days, and now my particular finite is infinitesimally smaller, aka More Work/Fewer Hours = Less Money.  Sometimes, like, today, it’s stressful.  I get a little snippy, I frown at people, I close my door and try to remember that everyone that’s annoying me has had their days & salaries cut as well. They also do not have enough time in the day to fix what’s wrong with the economy.

I was pretty thrilled when I heard we were cutting down to 4 days. I made a list on an orange 1×3″ post-it of what I’d do with my free time & I stuck it on the front page of my date book (Yes, an actual old-school date book. I’m a compulsive list maker and more than a little obsessed with post-its & office supplies.) This was a short simple list. It says: take more pictures.  read.  refinish furniture.  write. That’s it. The point is when it was announced we were cutting our hours & our salaries, what I heard was “more free time/less money”.

I have very simple needs. I value time more than money. I want time to sleep in, to spend with my friends, with my animals. I want time to sit & read, rather than squeezing it in during my subway rides to & from work. I want time to write, to just do this. I want free time to wander with no destination or path & take pictures of things that interest me.

Like this:

Sometimes, if you have money, you can buy time. You can hire someone to walk your dog, care for your children, do your taxes, your errands, your cooking, cleaning & laundry. If you have the money you can fly off to India, Jerusalem, Vatican City or Mecca. Can you purchase an audience with the Pope? I don’t know, but I know you can buy seats at your synagogue for the high holy days. You can purchase acres of property : beachfront, lakefront, wooded or mountainous. It’s your solitude, you choose.  So, it seems you can buy peace and serenity.

I think if I have enough time, I don’t need as much money. I have the time to clean my house, feed my cats, wash my clothes. I have the time to do my own taxes, my own errands. I get satisfaction out of taking care of myself, of knowing the how & why of my own life, of figuring things out for myself. I find satisfaction & peace of mind in silent work & self care. I crave time to make a pot of soup from scratch; to refinish a chair or paint my kitchen.  When I eat that soup or sit in that chair in my newly painted kitchen, I see myself reflected in everything I touch.

I have a friend who’s struggling against the possibility of a premature birth. For her, time is the only thing she wants, it’s the only answer.

I have another friend who was just laid off. He has all the time in the world now, I imagine he’d like a little less free time, a little more money.

I have a childhood pal who walked into the Oregon wilderness. He works hard, but just enough to provide for the needs for his family for the year. Then he quits & spends the rest of the year whittling & carving tables & guitars from giant pieces of scrap wood;  time with his wife, his kids & now his grandkids.

Another pal o’mine really loves food, friends & boxing. He’s made sure he has the money to buy a restaurant, a house with a kitchen the size of a small restaurant and a professional fighter.

Rita Sweeney’s mom (see photo) probably wished for money, more money, more money to buy the best doctors to save her baby. Rita would’ve been happy with just a little more time to get across the street safely.

Spring is here  & with it the anticipation of free time & lazy days at the summer house I’ve shared with my best girlfriends for years. As we each face the challenges brought by the “new” economy, we struggle to find the cash to make the beach house work again this year. To find enough money so we can sit around doing lots of nothing with each other during our precious free time. Before I sat down to write, if you asked me, I would’ve said, given the choice between time & money, I would always choose time, but I think the real answer is in finding the balance. I’d like enough of each and the sense to enjoy both, however much of each I wind up with.