Is the Rat Race for Rats?

I’ve taken on a few more projects. I’m now helping to organize a weekend-takeover performance series at a local market/hub. I have an official book launch event on the 10th. And with the motivation of some recent events, I’m organizing an open discussion on the job market and workplace experiences. That’s on top of setting up my office (I carried 200kg of furniture across the office building yesterday) and the printer and getting frames/paper to prepare for selling things at the Christmas market and my upcoming gallery exhibit. Not to mention the things I enjoy along the way, such as poetry readings, open mics, concerts, friend meetups, and other community events.

One of my good friends was fired yesterday for reasons I don’t agree with. My girlfriend just submitted her notice for her job. Another good friend of mine is doing everything he can to get out of his workplace. As is another still at my own old workplace. Of all the friends that I have, I don’t know any who are happy with their jobs. Poor conditions. Too low income. Too long hours. Too exhausting or tiring.

My question, therefore, is this: Are we rats? Are we the lowest of the low, the scum and scourge of the earth? Why are we accepting things as they are — being complacent? I wrote before about minimum wage: don’t take the job if the pay isn’t enough. But that doesn’t work anymore because someone else is desperate for that same job and will take it happily for a lower wage. The only solution is for everyone to reject the low-paying or poor-condition jobs. And that requires larger, more systematic change. Hence my motivation to organize an event to discuss this.

In my unemployment, I’ve done more than I’ve ever done in my entire life. My world is rich and vibrant, fruitful and exciting. It’s a sometimes overwhelming amount of time and effort to do all this stuff. I don’t get paid for any of it. However, the point is that I’m building a world. And entire world to live in. If I want to take a day off, I’m able to do that without pressure. My plan is also that very soon, I can switch gears and start making money off of everything I’m doing by selling things. Plus, I am searching for a job I would enjoy.

Regardless, what’s important to me is the fact that as my network grows, I meet such amazing people and with them comes other amazing opportunities (like performances, readings, collaborations, further networking). There are so many new people in my world now — people like me — which I have never experienced before, and it’s an incredibly fulfilling experience. I don’t feel alone in anything. I have support in everything. I have community. A community to which I belong. And I am responsible for finding it and nourishing it. Often even building it.

I don’t feel like a rat struggling to survive, running circles in an eternal maze from which there is no escape. I feel like a human fighting against centuries of dilapidation, seeking nothing more than meaning, purpose, and happiness. And I am finding those things. Slowly. Painfully. Agonizingly. I feel like I am going somewhere — not just nowhere anymore.

My next question, therefore, is how does one escape the rat race? The answer is very simple: don’t accept anything you aren’t happy with. It is difficult. You will suffer. You will probably be broke for a while. But in the end, you will be happy. I can get free food, free accommodation, free clothing, free internet, free anything. I’m grateful I don’t need to take advantage of any of that, but I have access to it through my communities. In other words, money doesn’t matter. There will never be a struggle when in a true community because the whole point of having a community is for everyone to support one another. So, escaping the rat race means being yourself, wholly, and finding like-minded people. I found my people by packing my life into two small suitcases and booking a one-way ticket to Iceland. It isn’t easy. But it is possible.

If you don’t know how to do something, then ask how. Ask me if you want — I’ll gladly answer. Don’t be afraid of needing help or support, otherwise, you will always be stuck. Don’t be afraid of your ability, either. Am I qualified to do anything I’m doing? Not at all. Half the time, I have no clue what I’m doing. But I do it all the same, to the best of my abilities, asking for help and support and guidance when needed. And that is all it takes. My only warning is to not be naive. Sometimes, unfortunately, you do need to work a terrible job because it pays the bills. I did that for 15 months. It isn’t a lifetime sentence: make the most of it. I met my girlfriend and most of my friends there.

I finally wrote something after so many months: one poem that I’ll leave here for your musing, called If I Could See the Sun:

If I could see the sun, I would walk among the day. I would let the flowing wisps of grass flow gently through my hand. I would stare at shadow, so dark yet so pure, so admirably intangible, the presence of not. And where the sun might shine its light, I’d allow alight its warmth.

If the sun could shine its light on me, I’d let stand who I am. I would turn my face for all to see, let the shade of cracks be wisdom. I would look upon a lightened world and join the sway of leaves. And should I need to close my eyes to brightness grown too bright, I would allow life’s giver to give me life in the smell of sweetened air.

If the heat of the sun could warm me, I would shed my hardened skin. I would let myself as I should be be shown out to the world. I would allow to thaw my heart long frozen as untamed sweat drips to my eye. And with my burning flesh exposed, my vision ripped by agony, I would fall to the ground, made weak by the sun who I thought would understand me.

If I could see the sun, I would awake from the cold of night.