Friday, October 19, 2007 at 2:02am
My love affair with Leisure
Column: Outing the Goddess Within
Being married to my career (affectionately known as Mike Areer), I never expected to find a civilization where the word "deadline" does not exist. Nor did I expect to find the attitude where "I'll do it tomorrow" really means "I'll do it when I get around to it, and only if there isn't an offshore wind." But I did find it, right here in the southwest of Western Australia.
As to whether this is a good thing depends on where one's priorities lie. A Sydney culture of murders and executions — ah, I mean, mergers and acquisitions — does not sit naturally in the more relaxed rural setting. On the other hand, a workday that starts at nine and finishes at five would not promote prosperity in the material city.
So which to choose? Career or Lifestyle?
When I was first offered a Marketing Guru role in Australia's own corner of heaven, Mike and I moved here, thinking I could have both. A challenging and satisfying career marketing wine by day, and rollerblading, dog-walking and beach frolics by evening. It sounded glamorous enough to make my Sydney friends choke with envy anyway, so I grabbed the opportunity.
Together Mike and I threw ourselves at this next step up the ladder to fame and fortune. We learned to like the instant coffee prolific in country offices, we adapted to alcohol-free lunches, we took the emergency corkscrew out of my handbag and left it at home, and, we ploughed money back into the local economy by renovating our home (even if we had to trawl the tradesmen off the beaches to do so).
Over the six months of renovations, the habit of going to the beach slowly became an addiction, and I found myself heading to the beach even on days when I didn't need a tradesman.
It took me a good year to realize that Mike Areer and I were slowly drifting apart. Our demise started out as little niggles: "You don't stay late anymore" or "You never eat take-away with me anymore."
Mike Areer's complaints started getting louder once it realized I was becoming more and more attracted to someone else: Leisure. "You spend more time with Leisure than you do with me" was his daily nag.
Then, in the heat of a January day, a book of "Business Administration For Dummies" flung carelessly onto the sand next to me, Mike Areer issued me an ultimatum: "It's him or me!"
And there it was. The decision I didn't want to make — the security of a weekly paycheck vs. the adrenaline of catching a wave. But Mike Areer was right, of course. I couldn't continue expecting our relationship to get stronger if I couldn't focus on building it.
So, drawing on my rash-decision making skills, I told Mike Areer that while I was young and still relatively fit, with only one tire around my middle, I would be exploring life with Leisure for a while. And, if he was prepared to sit out my fling with Leisure and wait for me, that would be great.
"Go jump in the lake," he sulked. So I did, strapping on water skis and whooping the cry of a girl who's just discovered freedom.
"Too much of a good thing can be wonderful," Mae West once said, and I am grateful I had the opportunity to live by her maxim. But six months into my affair with Leisure and, like all relationships based on lust, my passion started to wane. As did my bank balance. I discovered this when I went to buy Mike Areer suck-up flowers and my credit card bounced.
So, it was time to go back to the marital home and see if I couldn't make amends with Mike Areer. Only problem was, I didn't want to go back to "the way it was" — early starts, late finishes and nothing but a hard slog in the middle. I wanted my work to be fun, meaningful and prosperous. In other words, a career infested with sparkle, zing and magic.
To help me find all of this, I turned to the ancient Celtic version of a life coach — the goddess whose name means "wisdom" or "teacher": Dana.
Dana is the mother goddess of the Irish fairy people, the Tuatha Dé Danann ("too-ha-day-dah-nan"). They were skilled in art, poetry and magic, and ruled Ireland until they were overrun and driven to live in fairy mounds. She is celebrated at Beltane (Oct. 31 in the Southern Hemisphere), the season of fertility and prosperity when the Tuatha Dé Danann first set foot in Ireland.
Sadly there are no recorded stories of Dana — evidently her latent message is to tell your story before it is too late! And so, it was her magical fairy energy that spoke to me when I picked up a pen and began my writing apprenticeship.
"They" (whoever "they" may be) say that a writing apprenticeship is 1 million words. I sense that I have written that and more, but I couldn't tell you for sure. What I can tell you, however, is that in penetrating the veil of "what a career should look like" and instead honoring my creative destiny, I have found myself in the Land of My Heart's Desire.
In answering my calling to be a writer I've discovered the key to a successful career is to have a healthy dose of fun while doing whatever it takes to achieve that success. Letting yourself have fun at work naturally inspires you to be more creative, more innovative and more receptive to new and imaginative ideas. And those elements can only add a positive and permanent quality to any relationship.
— — —
Anita Revel is the creatrix of Goddess.com.au, a content-rich website aimed at helping you connect with your beautiful, sassy, intuitive, lovable, sacred and authentic self. You can read more of her columns here. © Copyright 2007 by Anita Revel.
As to whether this is a good thing depends on where one's priorities lie. A Sydney culture of murders and executions — ah, I mean, mergers and acquisitions — does not sit naturally in the more relaxed rural setting. On the other hand, a workday that starts at nine and finishes at five would not promote prosperity in the material city.
So which to choose? Career or Lifestyle?
When I was first offered a Marketing Guru role in Australia's own corner of heaven, Mike and I moved here, thinking I could have both. A challenging and satisfying career marketing wine by day, and rollerblading, dog-walking and beach frolics by evening. It sounded glamorous enough to make my Sydney friends choke with envy anyway, so I grabbed the opportunity.
Together Mike and I threw ourselves at this next step up the ladder to fame and fortune. We learned to like the instant coffee prolific in country offices, we adapted to alcohol-free lunches, we took the emergency corkscrew out of my handbag and left it at home, and, we ploughed money back into the local economy by renovating our home (even if we had to trawl the tradesmen off the beaches to do so).
Over the six months of renovations, the habit of going to the beach slowly became an addiction, and I found myself heading to the beach even on days when I didn't need a tradesman.
It took me a good year to realize that Mike Areer and I were slowly drifting apart. Our demise started out as little niggles: "You don't stay late anymore" or "You never eat take-away with me anymore."
Mike Areer's complaints started getting louder once it realized I was becoming more and more attracted to someone else: Leisure. "You spend more time with Leisure than you do with me" was his daily nag.
Then, in the heat of a January day, a book of "Business Administration For Dummies" flung carelessly onto the sand next to me, Mike Areer issued me an ultimatum: "It's him or me!"
And there it was. The decision I didn't want to make — the security of a weekly paycheck vs. the adrenaline of catching a wave. But Mike Areer was right, of course. I couldn't continue expecting our relationship to get stronger if I couldn't focus on building it.
So, drawing on my rash-decision making skills, I told Mike Areer that while I was young and still relatively fit, with only one tire around my middle, I would be exploring life with Leisure for a while. And, if he was prepared to sit out my fling with Leisure and wait for me, that would be great.
"Go jump in the lake," he sulked. So I did, strapping on water skis and whooping the cry of a girl who's just discovered freedom.
"Too much of a good thing can be wonderful," Mae West once said, and I am grateful I had the opportunity to live by her maxim. But six months into my affair with Leisure and, like all relationships based on lust, my passion started to wane. As did my bank balance. I discovered this when I went to buy Mike Areer suck-up flowers and my credit card bounced.
So, it was time to go back to the marital home and see if I couldn't make amends with Mike Areer. Only problem was, I didn't want to go back to "the way it was" — early starts, late finishes and nothing but a hard slog in the middle. I wanted my work to be fun, meaningful and prosperous. In other words, a career infested with sparkle, zing and magic.
To help me find all of this, I turned to the ancient Celtic version of a life coach — the goddess whose name means "wisdom" or "teacher": Dana.
Dana is the mother goddess of the Irish fairy people, the Tuatha Dé Danann ("too-ha-day-dah-nan"). They were skilled in art, poetry and magic, and ruled Ireland until they were overrun and driven to live in fairy mounds. She is celebrated at Beltane (Oct. 31 in the Southern Hemisphere), the season of fertility and prosperity when the Tuatha Dé Danann first set foot in Ireland.
Sadly there are no recorded stories of Dana — evidently her latent message is to tell your story before it is too late! And so, it was her magical fairy energy that spoke to me when I picked up a pen and began my writing apprenticeship.
"They" (whoever "they" may be) say that a writing apprenticeship is 1 million words. I sense that I have written that and more, but I couldn't tell you for sure. What I can tell you, however, is that in penetrating the veil of "what a career should look like" and instead honoring my creative destiny, I have found myself in the Land of My Heart's Desire.
In answering my calling to be a writer I've discovered the key to a successful career is to have a healthy dose of fun while doing whatever it takes to achieve that success. Letting yourself have fun at work naturally inspires you to be more creative, more innovative and more receptive to new and imaginative ideas. And those elements can only add a positive and permanent quality to any relationship.
— — —
Anita Revel is the creatrix of Goddess.com.au, a content-rich website aimed at helping you connect with your beautiful, sassy, intuitive, lovable, sacred and authentic self. You can read more of her columns here. © Copyright 2007 by Anita Revel.