I am become a Rural Carrier Associate for the U.S. Postal Service.
I pursued employment with the USPS thinking it might provide some security of longevity, tradition (over 200 years of continuous service, public benefit, innovation and survival), government benefits and programs…a service and income that might meet the needs my children and I have developed for something like stability and sustenance.
I was wrong about most of those things.
I’m almost guaranteed one day of work a week (or whenever the regular carrier is unable to work) – no benefits, guaranteed abuse and damage to our one essential family vehicle, grave limitations on supplemental work (not supposed to seek employment with anyone that is a client of USPS – in other words, anyone that purchases postage – greatly delimiting the options / NOR taking any work between the hours of 6 AM and 6 PM when I might be needed to fill in) – and, a grand service NOT supported or secured by the US Government since 1970 (no tax dollars toward USPS!).
On the other hand. It clearly satisfies core ethics and values I have carried through my entire life and its pursuits – Meaning. Relationships. Communication. Tangible Information. The Betweens:
Music. Poetry. Religion. Philosophy. Psychology. Bookselling (bibliotherapy). Marriages. Research and reference. Parenting. Writing. Anthropology. Semiotics. Neuroscience. Embodiment. Systems Theory. Language. Ekphrasis. Communications. Information Science…
what (it seems) has fueled them all has been a passion, fascination, curiosity and intense desire to search into, understand, sense
HOW HUMAN BEINGS MAKE AND SHARE MEANING
NOW: I’m a tangible link in the chain. A node or circuit in the web of transmission.
Divorce summons, a lover’s plaint, news of a long-lost classmate or childhood friend, money for a meal, Christmas gifts for grandchildren, links between parents and children, carrier of bills and obligations that alter our lives – invitations to weddings, announcements of deaths, retirements, coupons and births, biological specimens and literary manuscripts, art works, seeds, music, books, clothes and toys…
from here to there, there to here
how often I have rushed to the mailbox,
how often I have posted letters,
how often the holding of a living personal document has made a difference in my life…
These are what I think of as I dig through bins, collocate numbers, sort and file, casing mail, and rattle and drag my way through any weather, mood or condition to securely, confidentially and certainly deliver the mail…
In a great meanwhile…
…after three years working from home like a dream – researching, academics, creative writing and art-making; love with a tremendous spouse, and a generous and flexible availability to my amazing children…
it is now turning into months of spouse-lessness, unemployment, harried by survival efforts, sustenance, hours upon hours of therapy, grief, anger, puzzlement, bewilderment, and wonder…
CHANGE
A sustained period of invaluable interactions and dad-ness will be swallowed up bouncing wash-boarded gravelly roads placing packages and envelopes in sturdy boxes of farms. Fighting for moments with children, opportunities to claim that I am here for them. To study. To write. To read or rest or be…to grocery and launder, housekeep, to play.
Relocating yet again a sense of home.
For our part – four kiddos, their mothers (and their partner/spouses) and I (and mine) – we have survived, adapted, adjusted and altered much in the past two decades. Time/little time, retail/academia/schlepping/poverty/art – proven resilient, pliable, innovative, possible – committed or interdependent on one another and have formed and become, ached and angered, wept and worried, laughed and lost, suffered and rejoiced and survived and thrived…
…continued…(“I can’t go on. I’ll go on.”)
and we’re a pretty wonderful, remarkable, heart-stopping, difficult bunch!
A biological, literate, artistic, psychological, cultural, spiritual, relational, musical, playful, emotional, terrified, successful, wounded, smart, creative, clinical, authentic, unusual, “awkward,” bunch of “weirdies” (kids’ favorite terms)
and I hope and I trust
SURE OF ONE ANOTHER
…ever subject to change…
but together.
“Oh, Superman, Oh, Mum and Dad” ( reminded of Laurie Anderson)…
At times when I did menial work to earn to eat while can’t go on/will go on; I imagined a certain sense of ‘superiority’ to my fellow workers in that I held my creativity a close secret, knowing they’d go home to some more drudgery and TV and I will go home to creativity and escape through it. In the meantime I’ve changed my mind; what I thought of previously as my ‘superiority’ has become empty in the face of the balance people manage in being happy with who they are, not wanting anything else. Does this make sense? Maybe this should’ve, or could, again, go into ‘Journey of a Photograph’. You may be the next link to get it where it should go. Ha!
🙂 It does make sense. Our ways of living are our ways of living – whether in our creative work, employment, survival or thriving (?). The choices involved in enjoyment and gladness relate equally in every moment? Am I hearing you accurately? Acceptance capitalized? I like the connection to the photograph’s journey – certainly an artifact subject to change given its surround and context. Wonder where it’s going next? Perhaps it will come around again…