I’m thinking about how odd it is that we’ve “convenienced” our lives so much that we have to pay trainers and gyms for the privilege of doing physical work. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE the gym, but it’s kind of funny, right? And I’m really glad I’m not called on to enter combat, but slinging a mace around is really, really fun.
I’m thinking about this right now because I’m super-sore through my hands, forearms, and shoulders, just as if I had done an intense #kettlebell workout. What I actually did was actual work! I spent the weekend with the family at an Indiana Jones-themed Cub Scout campout, and volunteered to help build and strike one of the activity stations. The plate pictured is a base for curtain poles, and I’d guess it weighs about 35 pounds. I carried a bunch of pairs of those from one building to another, helped carry picnic tables down a staircase (and back up again at the end!), hung curtains, carried tables and crates, not to mention lugging the sleeping bags and gear up hill to our very basic cabin. My forearms are 100% cooked. ----------------------
I’m not suggesting that we ought to set ourselves back in time and start doing physical labor all the time, but it is kind of cool to think about places in your life you could add some actual work. Most of my physical labor is somehow related to volunteering for my kids’ school, or cub scouts or girl scouts. Yardwork comes to mind, too. Where could you do #actualphysicalwork ?
It's likely that excessive physical labor in childhood contributed to my chronic pain as an adult.
But I loved the physical labor.
The shame and abuse and shit was, shit.
But the work itself, was so enjoyable.
Not in a "this is comfortable and relaxing" way.
In a "this is challenging and bonding and empowering" way.
I *love* the feeling of hard labor.
I loved mowing lawns, shoveling driveways, carrying toddlers, digging, weeding, moving cinder blocks, packing ppls moving vans.. Even the week I spent cleaning flooded homes, covered in toxic mold and struggling to breathe through the most uncomfortable mask in the universe.. was one of my favorite experiences of all time.
I loved it all.
But it was too much, too young. Partly because my parents had poor understandings of what is age appropriate, partly because they had little respect for their children's autonomy, but mostly because they were poor, and we simply ould not have survive without us kids doing a lot of the unpaid labor, so they'd have time for the paid labor.
I miss working like that.
But, partly because of the too much too young, I'm largely deprived of that experience now. Hard labor still feels good in the moment, but now it knocks out my ability for several days at least afterwards.
Because of the too much too young, I don't get to work hard very often anymore.
I got those experiences as a kid, and now I don't get to have them as an adult.
I just wish.
That I could have had those moments of delightful hard work, but fewer of them, less often, and a bit lighter work.
So that I could still have that now. .
Meantime, I just embrace the busier days at work, as the closest thing I can manage, to that feeling of working really hard.
And I allow myself the recovery and rest I need.
And maybe someday, when I can afford multiday recovery, I'll shovel a driveway or something.
Sometimes, hard decisions have to be made. Today I quit my job. I put 6 months of hard work and dedication into this fantastic job. I didn't leave because I wanted to, but I had to. My body was overworked. I have been in pain 24/7 since I started working there, my mental state has been a mess, I feel like I'm sick 100% of the time and I just can't continue. I had a lot invested that I have to leave behind. I was gonna het my own place with my girlfriend, get a dog like I've wanyed my whole life, save for a house, get a transfer so I can get a phallo, fuck, I was even on track for a promotion. I had to throw it all away today. Time to rethink my entire life again 😅 #ftm#work#difficulttimes#mentalhealth#physicallabor#Itried
The work that goes into each donation is a lot. From obtaining supplies,sorting and preparing for disbursements to each hospital. But with the foundation of God, the passion to help others and the amazing help from all those that support NaNa’s Project each donation is made possible.
This day, it took over 7 hours to sort due to the amount of supplies, but everyone’s spirits were high because we knew that it was for a greater purpose! ❤️