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  • Writer's pictureCheryl

Liberation to Live

In a world without jobs, I would have no seasonal depression

There would be no room for it.

I would be too busy indulging my passions,

whimsies, and intellectual curiosities

to notice the impending grey of barren trees

and funny feelings of lonely remembering’s from

the self-harm, -hate, or heartaches of previous years

In a world without jobs, I would sing without fear

of needing to be good enough to perform for crowds

and dance and paint without worry I was wasting

the productive hours of the day on

frivolous hobbies I am not good enough at

to profit a wage from

In a world without jobs, I would type all day long in a coffee shop,

writing in whatever genre I want, because I want to,

and spend all of Autumn writing ghostly adventures and cozy creative fiction,

filling my little haunted world of Havisham Hollow,

turning to old friends for artwork,

and publishing a book or two for ease of access and aesthetic pleasure

In a world without jobs, I might even read

all the unopened, unfinished books on my shelf

that have been calling my name every break without fulfillment

In a world without jobs, I wouldn’t have shed as many tears

trying in desperation to grasp for a Bachelor’s degree or

academic recognition in a program where two associates

weren’t enough when others earned five

and my 4.0 GPA was too low to land me

at the institutions my peers attended

In a world without jobs, I would not have felt the burnout

get so very close to extinguishing the flame of excitement

I felt for science because I had to land on a specialty

in a calculus, physics, or chemistry classroom

alone with no one to guide me

In a world without jobs, I’d study botany one day

and brain chemicals the next, followed by Victorian poison usage

and the molecules that make cupcakes taste heart-warming and

tinctures of tea feel like a warm hug

In a world without jobs, I would never be so far

from a friend or family member.

In a world without jobs, I would see as much of it as I possibly could

I would sail back to Greece and finally settle down, rest my feet

and wake up like Donna Sheridan, singing and dancing, laughing, loving,

plucking fresh oranges for juice in the morning,

breathing in the salty air and letting go among the olive trees

In a world without jobs, I would learn to live freely

and happily just as I once knew how to do more easily

“And to Adam, he said, ‘Because you have… eaten of the tree of which I commanded you, ‘You shall not eat of it,’ cursed is the ground because of you; in pain, you shall eat of it all the days of your life; till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.’”
Genesis 3: 17-19, ESV
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