Recently I signed on as a volunteer to work on a section of the Continental Divide Trail. I really haven't done any volunteer work during my retirement, although I have looked into it from time to time. It surprised me what a formal organization they were. I got officious-looking letters from headquarters informing me that I'd be camping four nights and working eight hours per day on it. Then I bowed out.
But why? It had seemed like such a fine idea. At first I thought it was the logistics of getting there, camping, or finding a dog-sitter. But there was something deeper. Volunteering can seem humiliating, especially when you have to deal with salaried "volunteer coordinators." (Bureaucratic young squirts who live in a spreadsheet dream world.) Time is money, and to volunteer your time seems connected to the idea that your time and life are worthless.
I have been turned off by volunteering for animal shelters, as well. The impression I got was that they thought they were doing me a favor. They want you to sign up for long term commitments that benefit their schedule, not the volunteer's.
In general, it seems that volunteering gets you into some menial labor that could be done by kids, if the organizations just had the budget to pay them.
Then there was the political angle. Yes there is politics involved in a hiking trail. I feared that I would be surrounded by environmentalists who, if they had their way, would ban mountain bikes, dogs, horses, fly fishing, or anything besides hikes and wildlife lectures by the Sierra Club. Hikers tend to see themselves as the Purest and Holiest of nature lovers. In actual fact, half of hiking consists of driving a motor vehicle to the trailhead. A mountain biker could ride right from his front door.
But this also didn't seem like the real reason why I bowed out of the volunteer work. Is the problem that the whole idea of volunteer work is implicitly a big Guilt trip?
I seem to be getting warmer. An early retiree who lives an independent lifestyle does so by rebelling against the false idol of Necessity. He has decided that much of the Pragmatism of the world is phony, brought on by people acting slavishly conventional and falling into traps. Time traps, money traps, ego traps.
But what shall he do with himself when he has liberated himself from Necessity? Shall he turn himself over to someone else's dreary Necessity, in order to keep his own life busy-busy-busy and therefore "meaningful?" That seems like a defeat and a cop-out.
But why? It had seemed like such a fine idea. At first I thought it was the logistics of getting there, camping, or finding a dog-sitter. But there was something deeper. Volunteering can seem humiliating, especially when you have to deal with salaried "volunteer coordinators." (Bureaucratic young squirts who live in a spreadsheet dream world.) Time is money, and to volunteer your time seems connected to the idea that your time and life are worthless.
I have been turned off by volunteering for animal shelters, as well. The impression I got was that they thought they were doing me a favor. They want you to sign up for long term commitments that benefit their schedule, not the volunteer's.
In general, it seems that volunteering gets you into some menial labor that could be done by kids, if the organizations just had the budget to pay them.
Then there was the political angle. Yes there is politics involved in a hiking trail. I feared that I would be surrounded by environmentalists who, if they had their way, would ban mountain bikes, dogs, horses, fly fishing, or anything besides hikes and wildlife lectures by the Sierra Club. Hikers tend to see themselves as the Purest and Holiest of nature lovers. In actual fact, half of hiking consists of driving a motor vehicle to the trailhead. A mountain biker could ride right from his front door.
But this also didn't seem like the real reason why I bowed out of the volunteer work. Is the problem that the whole idea of volunteer work is implicitly a big Guilt trip?
I seem to be getting warmer. An early retiree who lives an independent lifestyle does so by rebelling against the false idol of Necessity. He has decided that much of the Pragmatism of the world is phony, brought on by people acting slavishly conventional and falling into traps. Time traps, money traps, ego traps.
But what shall he do with himself when he has liberated himself from Necessity? Shall he turn himself over to someone else's dreary Necessity, in order to keep his own life busy-busy-busy and therefore "meaningful?" That seems like a defeat and a cop-out.
Comments
Say, when are you going to renounce your Texan nationalism and visit another state?
Apparently we've discovered the social utility of a curmudgeon having a blog: he will say the things that decent, polite people want to say, but are afraid to.
Go figure.