Six bits of wisdom for the unemployed

So that's the emotion: now here comes the advice—some from me, some from experience. Here, as best I can remember it, is the wisdom obtained, or gained, during my four-plus months jobless and pretty much freaked out. And thank you to my uber-smart pragmatist brother-in-law, my parents, and my wife for being the ones who for the most part passed this on to me.

Wisdom Number One: Make the Call

The first few days after I lost my job, I was starved for human contact. Getting laid off is like being shoved off the boat into the black ocean; all you want to do is hail passing ships. I followed L everywhere—even sitting outside the shower just to keep a conversation going. Around her was an atmosphere of togetherness, but step too far away—just a few feet too far—and things grew cold again: deep water.

Others could extend that same cone of well-being. My parents called me every day for the first month, and a phone call would be enough to stave off panic for a few hours. Friends also sent e-mails, and that meant a lot. The support of friends I called coworkers just a few weeks before was an incalculable boon: I still feel a place of goodness in my heart from the words of prayer and encouragement that they sent me over Facebook or in person. Some even gave me some freelance work: good for the soul and for groceries.

People always say that it is a good thing to call or visit someone who is grieving or going through a hard time. Go, they say, or call or write—even if you have nothing to say, and I never understood that. But it is so true.

Take the night sky. We look up at the glittering stars in the sky and never feel the abyss. Our feet stand hard on the earth. The sky covers our heads like a blanket, and the darkness between each glittering splinter is just a happy fold. Then things tilt hard and you lose your footing. The blanket is jerked away and what is left is infinite space, nothing to hold on to: absolute impersonality.

This is, of course, an illusion. And the briefest contact with a fellow human being is all it takes to make that lonely abyss shimmer, blink, and wink out for awhile.

Wisdom Number Two: The plank is longer than you think

Burn rate, that's what my brother-in-law calls it. That's how long you have until the money runs out. That's how long until you move out of your house and move in with mom and dad. You sit down and figure out how long you've got. And, as odd as it sounds, it is kind of a relief.

See, while you're busy falling into the abyss or being reminded that the abyss doesn't exist, having something solid like real numbers is an amazing boon. Even the narrowest margin is still a margin, because it is a solid margin: some of the holiest places have been scraped together from the rockiest shelves and hollowed by hand from the sheerest cliffs. Truth, even the sober truth of the plank, is at least a place to stand.

Wisdom Number Three: Family comes first

It may seem odd not to talk about the mechanics of the job search at this point. But most people will begin going through the motions even if they're still in shock. I was in shock for the first month, and that gave me enough presence of mind to gather materials, get references, and even have a business lunch or two. It may be helpful if you know someone going through this process to put together a list of what they're good at, just to remind them. For awhile, you forget you are good at anything. But, again, that's just the next thing.

Real wisdom at this point is to take advantage of the new schedule to be with your family. No, it isn't exactly the vacation you may have wanted, but realizing that life, like light, contains many colors is a first step in regaining yourself. In my case, I saw a great deal of my wife and my son. Caleb and I spent many hours together at the library or at the park—or sometimes just watching TV together: something I would never have done with the constant presence of work. We had lunch together and I read him stories before naps. We ran errands and wrestled. Now that I work everyday, I miss those times and am so glad that he and I shared so much time together.

Wisdom Number Four: Prayer with and for others

I had the opportunity and privilege to begin attending morning prayer with several guys from my church, a few of them also out of work. Episcopal by tradition, we followed the calendar, praying in unison and responsively the morning II service from the Book of Common Prayer. I'll save the spiritual journey of this period for a future post. For now, let me just say that the comfort of lifting others up verbally in prayer and of hearing your own needs prayed for is palpable.

Work wants to be life in this culture. But, the thing is, it is not. And when you've been let go from work, the face-slap reminder cannot help but be a good thing. We forget so easily that we aren't what we do. We forget that our hopes and our loves are far more important. Regular prayer with others is a way of reminding the principalities and powers of work that their time is numbered. It is a check against the idolatry of effort and reward.

Wisdom Number Five: Practice habitual gratitude

It took a few months, but the love of family and friends mixed together with prayer made gratitude. The illusion of permanent work and position makes us feel entitled. But once you've calculated your burn rate and you aren't getting calls from your resume, little things like clean clothes and good food are little miracles. It doesn't take long for the newspaper, the television, or just snatches of stories in your mind to remind you that most of the world is a hungry and hopeless place. An out of work American is like a king living in exile for a time. Gratitude is not an emotion: it is a force. Gratitude is a wall. It is a fortress. You are walled up into gratitude. It doesn't need to be summoned, it is so tangible and evident in everything that it may as well be flesh and yourself a ghost. Wisdom practices gratitude as often as it can and with as much energy as possible.

Wisdom Number Six: Trust the future

I won't go into this one in too much depth yet. Suffice to say that all the employment manuals make it sound as if the only thing a newly unemployed person should do is find another job. Finding another job is your new job. Anything less is just letting yourself and your family down.

To this I say: not true. Finding a job is like growing a garden. Bursts of energy to turn earth or plant seeds punctuate the wisdom of waiting. You adjust the elements and have faith in the way things must be. That is exactly what I am talking about. The future has not forgotten about you. Do what is necessary and then pull up a seat on the porch.