Syllables of Existence
Part of my job involves supporting the development of short to long-term health plans. Part of this exercise is advising on indicators – the measurable outcomes of each activity within the plan that will define the level of its success. The indicators that we usually see work on the lengthier time scales, most monitored on an annual basis. I was reading a particular granular plan recently and it got me thinking about the calculable components of my own labor. But not in relation to monthly or yearly goals – these are easy enough to quantify in projects, reports, meetings, etc. completed. Not even in relation to weekly segments, too short a timeline sometimes when you are in and out of the office in a relationship-based role, trying your best to build something larger.
Rather, it was what I produced on a daily basis that I started to think about. My contribution through emails, calls, in meetings, documents, and online logs. My movement through spaces – my apartment, the office, another’s home, walking along the street, traversing communities – what determinate things could I define through numeric figures? How could I sum up my presence?
Of course, I was not interested in finding actual numbers that I could use to define my output. I was after something more fundamental: the meaning I brought to my work (or job, labor, occupation, call it what you will) and my life. What is it that I produce that is of particular significance to those around me? What is it that I take to my friends and family that keeps them availed?
In search of this latent value, I unearthed a soft revelation. I have a feeling it is something many of us have in common.
– / – / –
I do not usually speak with anyone unless I am at work. My family and friends are remote, living far from the current city where I reside. We communicate for the most part through phone messages, hopping on an actual call once in a while. Though I have made some solid acquaintances in Prince George, I connect with them outside of work once every few months at best. This means that aside from ‘office talk’, I am uttering very little from my mouth. Some may point to the grocery store, the barber’s, shops, etc. Sure, but these are limited, spread out excursions.
I took eight days off last December, for example, and recall going half that time without exercising my vocal cords. When I did speak – on a meeting the first day back in the office – my voice was raspy. I was not prepared for that and had to struggle my way through the first few minutes trying not to sound like I had aged twenty years in a week. Incidentally, I had spent much of that time going through my to-watch and to-read lists. A quiet winter retreat in a cozy abode.
Reflection #1 – When I was solely the consumer and not the contributor, my voice had left me.
A bricklayer lays bricks. The construction they are putting together is immediate and clear. A farmer caretakes fields of crops and rears livestock. They harvest what these efforts bare. A delivery driver takes items from one point to another. Once the items are delivered, the job is done. These professions see the value of their labor directly before them. (I understand there is a lot more to value and wealth that can be mentioned here. Is the mason clear on what is being built, or for what purpose? What about where the farmer’s yields are going and at what price? How clouded is the nature of the delivery from the driver? But we can keep the analogy simple to make a more salient point.)
I support social service delivery with a large non-profit. My role is community-facing but also administrative. I build relationships, which can take time. I support developing frameworks for health as mentioned above, which takes time and can have far-reaching consequences. All of my contributions filter through numerous people and organizational strata and combine with inputs from hundreds of others before they are ever translated to action on the ground. My labor is also not central to service delivery – services that are ideally community-led – my role is thus to link to resources, facilitate, and ask good questions.
But it is a strange case of not being too alienated from the value of labor either. Part of my job is to understand how it all ties together, identifying the roadmap of turning lofty ambitions into realities.
In my personal sphere, impression-making is easier to decipher. We do not tend to think about the ‘why’ behind our love for family and friends, so we do not bother coming up with quantitative indicators that define that love. At least, for those of us fortunate enough not to have transactional relationships with those closely held.
Reflection #2 – The impact of my contributions is often out-of-focus. That does not imply that it is not worthwhile.
At the office, I write a lot. Emails, messages on our organization’s collaboration platform, documents of all sizes across a variety of software, entries into online databases, you get the gist. When travelling to remote areas, that writing happens in fragments – in notebooks or on sticky notes, chart paper, and cards.
Outside of work, I write a little less. Messages to my family and friends, search queries onto my laptop, entries into mobile applications that help me track everything from my finances to my to-do lists, posts for this blog, etc.
These are my daily measurables, then: words. They are the core of everything I do, syllables of my existence. Their tone, structure, and frequency are how the world interprets and judges me. Everyone has their own version of myself in their minds, assembled with meeting minutes, messages, emails, documents, presentations, bits of conversation, and second-hand communication. The meaning and value I bring to those in my orbit simply an extension of my speech, written and spoken to amplify or subdue the meaning I receive from others.
Reflection #3, the soft revelation at hand – Words are all that I have. They imbue me with power, fill pages with insight, carry to and settle upon others emotional weight, prompt action, and above all, allow me to articulate my being.
– / – / –
Of course, we all know this. Anyone who has even dabbled in Philosophy, Linguistics, Psychology, Sociology, or Critical Theory can regale the lot with formal notes on language and its central role as a power broker through regulation, definition, and promulgation.
And I knew this too. At least once, firmly, without any doubt; I held closely in front of me the truth of how our arbitrarily constructed but essential systems of communication were the key to everything. Our ruin and redemption. But boardrooms are not classrooms and semantics or assumptions underpinning jargon are not included in corporate dialogue. ‘Other duties as assigned’ do not involve overthinking things.
I say “knew” because we must regularly stumble upon these reflections and remind ourselves of what is truly meaningful. Intelligence and wisdom are not objects to be owned but behaviors to be practiced. I found myself returning to this tutelage internalized a long time ago yet sequestered to the back of my mind. Of how language and its cultivation are our primary tools in so many aspects of our lives. Especially when it is all one uses on a daily basis through labor in an effort to improve the livelihoods of those most marginalized.
So, I will continue to write and speak with an affirmed conviction to improve what I convey and how I express it. Words are all I have, and they are plenty.