Yesterday evening we held Session Three of my Carl Jung seminar at IS. Before that, during the afternoon, I was working on my current report for IcebergIQ. And before that, in the early morning, I was reading Sebastian Gardner’s book on Kant and planning a Patreon video based on the book. Are these all work? Should I add more rest to my days? There are probably elements of work in all three activities, but there are also non-work elements in them. What does that mean? What are the work and non-work elements of an activity?
Reflecting on work in general is not an easy task. Work encompasses psychological, economic, political, societal, personal dimensions, and more. It is often easier to focus on one of these dimensions before delving into the topic of work, as discussing specific individuals and their work conditions is more accessible than discussing it in broad terms. Nonetheless, I would like to jot down a few general notes in a free association style.
Sometimes, we say that an activity “doesn’t feel like work” when it brings enjoyment, flows effortlessly, or doesn’t feel burdensome. I believe these judgments stem from a limited and negative perspective on work. Something can indeed be considered work without feeling like it. Conversely, we may claim, “this feels too much like work,” when we perceive the effort required for the activity to be disproportionately high. Spending time with family members can sometimes feel “too much like work,” even though it is undoubtedly not work. Urgently and desperately needing rest does not necessarily imply that I have been working.
During the Jung Seminar, we had a wonderful and interactive group, which is why I decided to offer an additional fourth session next Tuesday. The seminar also inspired me to plan another seminar or reading group for next year. Perhaps there exists a kind of work that inherently yearns to be done, and being able to accomplish it means giving expression to the drive that resides within the work. In such cases, we discover and respond to an inner necessity. When I manage to align myself with that inner necessity, expressing its corresponding drive, justification, and meaning, I find the work intrinsically rewarding. Naturally, this does not apply to all types of work. Moreover, just because a particular work is intrinsically rewarding does not eliminate the possibility of others exploiting it.
The expression of the drive I am referring to necessarily occurs over time. Contemplating work leads us naturally to contemplate time and how work shapes and finds structure within it. Holding a seminar structures time differently compared to writing reports or producing videos. Nevertheless, regardless of the work I engage in, I find myself moving along a cyclical pattern, akin to a wheel turning while also progressing forward. I envision myself as a point on the circumference of a wheel, which keeps moving forward. Work entails repetition, both within the work’s structure and schedule, and that repetition is part of what enables change and discovery.
In contrast to the temporal structure (structure over time), there is a relational structure among people. Work involves positioning, movement, and exchange. Consider, for instance, a contract or a promotion. With work, we enter into an exchange with other people, organizations, and the world at large. I believe that the inner nature of a work should align with its external positioning within its context. The solitary and detached position of an alchemist aligns with the inner character of their work. Is the alchemist genuinely engaging in an exchange with the world, or are they envisioning and hoping for a future exchange, future positioning, and a future role within a larger structure?
The fairness and intensity of the exchange can determine the duration of work and its outcomes. Despite how much I enjoyed the Jung seminar, I could not fully devote myself to that work alone. The same applies to the other work I undertake; each one lacks in different ways, which is why I pursue all of them. Isn’t part of the work recognizing those deficiencies and responding to them? Isn’t “finding work” a part of working? The various connections I have made since moving to Toronto include connections that perpetuate and expand my search for work. “What else can I do? How can I enhance what I am doing?” These questions persist in my mind, even during periods of “rest.” The work desires to continue, and perhaps that is not necessarily a negative aspect.