Overwork, Suffering & Canada

Glad to be Canadian

As I write this, it’s July 1. I’m in a coffee shop. Some smooth jazz is going down easy in the background as my caffeine boost brings me up. And I’m grateful. It’s been a year since I left the day job that was killing me so I could devote all my time to writing books. And here’s the kicker: I probably couldn’t do this if I lived somewhere else. Canada supports the arts and, indirectly, my art.

Before anyone complains about taxes…

Due to 2018 being a weird year financially, I had to work out a payment plan to pay my taxes. However, I’m getting my money’s worth from my country. A year ago I had emergency eye surgery to save the vision in my left eye. This spring I got hit hard by pneumonia and, aside from the $8 for the taxi to the hospital, the ordeal cost me nothing. It would have been free if I’d had to call an ambulance. We take care of each other. That’s a good sign of a healthy society.

Unfortunately, many of my friends have to choose between medical care and paying the rent or buying food or paying off exorbitant student loans. They spend a lot of time scared. What if that’s not a bump? What if it’s a lump? When life-saving insulin costs so much, how much do they dare ration their medication? None of these friends are Canadian.

The Delusion

It’s a popular notion that starving artists make great art. It’s taken as a given that food insecurity is a motivator. No, please don’t try to craft a virtue out of cruelty. When you have to worry about the basics, all other endeavors suffer. Stress and suffering are not noble. Requiring stress and suffering of others doesn’t make anyone a hard-charging go-getter. When art happens in egregious conditions, it’s not because of the egregious conditions. That value bubbles up despite horrible circumstances.

Suffering is poison. The pushy tech-bro is anti-life. The outlier story of the rugged individualist who owes nothing to anyone is propaganda. It’s the lie that tells people who already have two jobs that they’ll be worthy of love and their families will be safe if only they’d work just a little harder. The mania of constant overwork does not serve humans. We are not robots but the propagandists would have people work like machines, at least until they can be replaced by machines.

Think you can live on your own and don’t need anybody else to succeed? Actually, we’re all in this together. Businesses need a healthy economy supported by people making a living wage and paying taxes. Think of yourself as a rugged individualist? When your retina tears spontaneously as mine did last year, are you going to perform the surgery with a mirror, a butter knife, and a welding kit? I don’t think so, Butch.

It’s not a little ironic that abrasive guru Gary Vaynerchuk says, “Fear kills growth.” Fear of disease, illness, and failure to care and provide for our loved ones kills more growth than any uncompromising motivational speech can overcome. We are all worthy of love, whether we’ve “earned” it or not. Suffering is poison, but so is the conviction that you can’t be seen until you’re rich and famous. I do work hard, but any success that may come my way will not rise from the pain of another.

Don’t wait until people are famous to love them.

There’s a common expression I despise: “So-and-so is doing well.” That’s code for, “So-and-so is making a lot of money.” Okay, good for them. But is so-and-so doing any good? Your worth isn’t all in your wallet. If that were true, late-stage capitalism would ensure only a handful of people are worthy of love and care.

Despite my frustrations, I’m not here to condemn anyone. I’m writing today to express my love for the benefits of living in Canada. It’s a stretch for me to pay my taxes this year in particular, but better that than saddled with a crippling medical debt that would bankrupt me if I lived elsewhere.

To paraphrase George Carlin, it makes sense to be glad to be Canadian. Pride overlooks the fact that my citizenship is an accident of birth. I was lucky enough to be born here. I didn’t earn my citizenship. That’s why I’m also glad to say that we take in many immigrants. People who work hard to get here and gain citizenship earn what I have the privilege of taking for granted.

Apologies

Canada is not perfect. Like any country, Canada has problems. Those frets need to be addressed but we’ve got a lot of love around here to help fuel the solutions. As long as care and compassion are guiding principles, we surely can’t go too far wrong.

I am so grateful that our country is not seen as a great power full of threats. Instead, our reputation is that of a people who are so polite we apologize too much. Better to say sorry too often than not at all.

I’m a writer in Canada, feeling safe, sound and productive.