On joy and contentment, and the spirituality of unemployment

The other day I was writing a quick message to an old, dear friend of mine, just catching him up on the going-ons of my life.  I wrote something, which seemed natural at the time, but when I reviewed the note later, this statement jumped out at me as pretty interesting; I wrote:

"I have been happier in my life, but I've never felt more *at peace* in my life. It's a very interesting thing."

Apparently, it is a thematic contemplation for me, for just a few days earlier I had done a tarot reading for a friend of mine and wrote these words to her:

"True joy comes from the mundane. Remember that. *Fixes* come from the exciting and novel things in life, and usually involve a crash."

It has me wondering and thinking about the nature of the relationship between peace and happiness, joy and contentment.

I live now with my sister, 'da Renegade Mama (dRM), and her four children (and my two children...er cats).  dRM is pursuing an undergraduate degree in Philosophy, and so we discuss philosophical things together quite a bit, and even at times I read her texts to keep up.

Plato has become a favorite of ours, specifically The Republic, and the quest for justice.  What is justice, how do we achieve it?  A teacher of dRMs (Michael Minch) stated in her Political Philosophy class that "peace is the fruit of justice."  That justice, or contentment, is to be pursued as the path for a society or person to know peace.  Relating this to the Biblical thought that "by their fruits ye shall know them," I believe a society or a person may be identified for their justice and well-being as is indicated by their degree of peace.  (And, as a very unpatriotic American, I do see my country's inability to stay away from conflict, war, threats, mudslinging, and general fear as indicative of our thoughtlessness with regard to justice, and our disdain for contentment as evidenced by our non-satiation and competitiveness.  I digress...)

A common philosophical argument (Hobbes, Rousseau, Kant, etc.), too, is that joy and happiness are spikes of events but that contentment, justice, and consequently peace are the underlying core of well-being, both for a person and a society.

Relating this to my life, I have recently made a commitment to simplicity and have decided to shed the shackles of competitiveness and "keeping up with the Joneses;" I have decided to not "work" and to live off of gifts and alms, and dedicate my time and energy towards community building, support of friends and family members, and spending a lot of time doing nothing.  I keep my slate relatively clear of commitments, and am therefore free to spontaneously listen to inner promptings to take actions, or stay inactive and just think, ponder, or relax mindlessly.  I also only "work" for no pay - I have let everyone that I offer my time to know that I neither want nor expect monetary remuneration, or any form of exchange.  Thus, my aspirations and commitments are not placed in areas of greatest achievement and return-on-time-investment, but instead on following my inner guidance and personal interests.  It's an experiment.

I'm not perfect with it - I have a lot of ingrained habits that I have to fight daily, the most potent of which is heaping judgment and guilt upon myself.  "I should be doing more," "I'm lazy and a slacker," "I'm a burden on society," and so forth, constantly barrage my otherwise peaceful and contented mind.  But I'm making progress.

And instead of fighting, struggling, and as The Avarians call it "moving through the nails, the sharp glass of life" - which is flatly dismissed as unnecessary - I increasingly feel peaceful.  Not elated, not joyful, not even happy necessarily, but calm.  I no longer feel like I need to control my life, or need to fight to maintain control, or even need to work towards a certain direction, because I see that the only thing fighting against me is my own mind, my self-imposed guilt.

It may sound like I've stepped right onto the wide path of laziness and ease, which to an extent I guess is true.  But I have found a razor's edge of spiritual insight and attunement that I can follow easily if I keep my mind and intentions purely focused on releasing guilt and listening for intuition and guidance.

I do still have moments of joy and elation.  I have little sprinkles of them throughout the day, mostly when I feel noticed, acknowledged and praised.  But I'm finding that they aren't worth seeking; they aren't worth the effort, because they're fleeting, and instead of fueling more compassion and kindness in me, they leave me feeling unsatiated - hungry for more.

And finally, I have found a lot of opportunity to offer small tidbits of peace, acceptance and forgiveness to people around me who are fighting for survival.  Little opportunities, here and there, to stop and listen to people, to jump in when they're struggling, and to employ my skills and expertise towards their challenges.  

The word "vocation" comes from the Latin root vocationem which means "spiritual calling."  Would we feel the world was more just, would we experience greater contentment, and would the world be at greater peace if we chose to spend the majority of our time - if we chose our vocation - based on the calling of our spirit?

The big question that comes up, of course, is how, then, will we pay our bills?  How will we eat, clothe ourselves, and find shelter?  These are legitimately scary questions to face.  I have had three conversations/witnesses in my life that have answered this question to me:

1. Personal revelation.  My first answer came when I did a little seance and some automatic writing and got a message from Spirit Guides. I will post the revelation in my next blog.
2. About a week later, my sister out of the blue said, "You should read these two articles by Hugh Nibley that were assigned to me in class today.  They were so interesting!"  (Hugh Nibley was a renowned LDS scholar).  The articles are untitled "Work we must, but the lunch is free" (Click here for full text) and "But what kind of work?" (Click here for full text).  In short, Nibley argues that God and Jesus have commanded us to share with each other and not worry about how the bills will get paid.  Just follow the spiritual call and it will all be taken care of.
3. Just a few short days after that, The Avarians (Click here for more info) had a channeling event at a shop I volunteer at.  They spoke of following the Divine Calling, and upon following the material things we need will manifest through the power of our own creation.  It basically matches Jesus' teaching in the New Testament to consider the lilies of the field, for the rich man to drop all money and follow Him, and his command to his disciples to carry neither an extra coat or a sack of coins, and not to think beforehand of what they would say, but to just walk forward and trust.  If they did so, He promised they'd be taken care of.

So I'm experimenting with that as well.  So far it's working.  I have a free house to live in, free food, some really magnificent friends gave me a free car, and every now and then people give me gift cards for clothes, gift certificates for restaurants, and straight-up cash.  Totally unsolicited, people just hand me cash now and then.  It's only been six weeks of living like this, maybe the novelty of it will wear off, I don't know - but so far it's working.  Why not just trust it and keep going?

I don't hope or expect to have wealth and riches come from this.  I anticipate a relatively Spartan way of life.  And that's ok with me - I don't really care at this point in my life in having things, going places, experiencing grand adventures, or looking cool or put-together.  (We currently sleep 6 people to one bedroom, and I gotta admit - it's perfectly fine.  Everyone else in the world - outside of the US and other highly developed nations - sleeps together in one room, so it's actually quite normal.) 

I have certain tastes and indulgences too that may eventually go away (smoking and drinking) because they aren't exactly necessary for my survival, and may or may not be detrimental to my spiritual well-being (I'm not that worried about my physical well-being, but we'll get to that another time).  For now, I accept what is provided and use it as I see fit.  I make a point not to pray for, "call forth," or request anything coming my way.  I'm just trusting.  Letting it be.  And it's working.  

And I feel at peace.  Which is kinda a new thing for me.  I like it.