Do you have affluenza?

My name is Lyrian and I think I suffer from a mild case of affluenza.

Affluenza, as described by author and psychoanalyst Oliver James, is “the placing of a high value on money, posessions, appearances (physical and social) and fame.” This came as a surprise to me as, on the surface of things, I have rejected the high emphasis we place on money (and taken a $25k pay cut to prove the point), think fame is toxic, and am totally cool with heading down to the local supermarket in my pyjamas.

So how can I have affluenza, even mildly? If Oliver James’ book is anything to go by, I am mildly afflicted with affluenza because…

… I have never thought of myself as someone who would relish motherhood, particularly the time when children are young and you have to stay home with them. I attach a huge amount of my personal value on my work, and shamefully admit that I don’t put enough intrinsic value in being a stay at home parent.

I have been reading Affluenza for almost a week, and while finding parts of it annoying, have generally been loving the way it is forcing me to reconsider my motives for things, and to just, you know, stop and smell the roses.

Thankfully, I realised a few years into my career that I (and you, I dare say) will never get to the end of my life and say “gosh darn, I wish I’d worked more.” I’m not the kind of person who is ever going to work years of 10hr days ‘for the man’. This realisation came when I worked for an incredibly intelligent, high achieving and successful woman who struggled daily with the responsibilities, and guilt, of her family and her relationship with her husband. It didn’t take long for me to see that she would have been much happier working half as hard.

I’m also lucky that I value the work I do for its intrinsic value, not its money making or affluenza-causing properties. Clearly I don’t work in International Development for the fame or the fortune, and I genuinely love what I do. These things are both vaccines for affluenza, according to James.

But where I fail spectacularly is on my ideas of parenthood. On the surface I can easily say it is the most important thing a person can ever do, to raise a child, yet when I look at my own life, I look at motherhood as a distraction from my career.

Sound the alarm bells! Raise the “wrong way, go back” signs and pass the girl a reality check would you. Being a parent IS the most important job a person can ever have. Ever. For everyone. And being a present parent is most often the best way to do this most important of all jobs.

At least that’s the message I think I’m supposed to take away from this book. Now this doesn’t mean I want to launch into motherhood tomorrow, or even at all, but it does flag that my attitude, both personally and the attitude I judge others with, needs to change. As a society, we only have good things to gain from placing higher value on present parenting.

The beauty of the way Oliver James send his warnings about affluenza and the depression and anxiety it brings is that he backs up what he says with outside research. In our skeptical society he very quickly meets our instant reaction of disagreement with “facts” to sway us his way. While the message that money doesn’t make you happy, and valuing posessions over relationships is something I learned fairly early in life to try and avoid, in the words of one of his interviewees:

“It’s staggering how easy it is to get pulled away from the things that you know are important.”  - Holly, quoted in Affluenza.

In one way, this book has been a welcome affirmation of many life choices I have made to date, it has also been a welcome kick up the rear end to always ask myself why are you doing this? Why have you made this choice? Will this be positive for your life?

And it’s not every day you get this kind of reality check, so thank you, Oliver James.

February Reading list

A snapshot of the reading taking up space on my bedside table this month, with a feature of my favourite:

Just Kids - Patti Smith

“The city was a real city, shifty and sexual,” is Patti Smith’s description of New York City through the eyes of a young woman, and from that phrase on I have been drawn into the world of dreams ending, lives collapsing and rising and falling, love, poverty, artistry, and the importance of having fervent belief in yourself, and the discipline to actually follow through.

I am nostalgic for a time I was never alive for - the late sixties/seventies, when Jim and Janis and Jimmy could still eat in cafes and Andy might be listening to Lou while Allen is howling next door. New York City. Chelsea Hotel. The Kennedy’s and The Beatles and The Rolling Stones and the empowerment of youth’s naivete.

Smith is a beautiful writer, and her life so intricately shared with Robert Mapplethorpe is captivating when told through her pen.

January’s reading list

A quick snapshot of the things taking up space on my bedside table this month, with a feature of my favourites:

Lionel Shriver, So Much For That

Shriver is a woman who doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to characters. When I started this book, I tried to forget just how strong the impact of her last book We Need to Talk About Kevin was because it is one of the most impressive books I have read. Kevin has stayed with me and stayed with me and stayed with me [stop - you haven’t read it? Go! Go now!], and I thought it was a bit much to expect such a strong impact next time round. And I was right.

But here’s the thing, So Much For That, a tale of the complete failure that is the American healthcare system, especially given my experience of healthcare in Australia, creeps up on you. And a tale about choice, more specifically, the conviction required to choose and then follow through. Sure, it took a while to really get in to, but by the end, I was brushing tears away from my chin. Thank you, Shriver, for another quality offering to modern fiction.

The Gentlewoman, Issue 2, Autumn-Winter 2010

One rainy night I was seeking out shelter in downtown Melbourne, not fussed at the sensation of water seeping in through my stockings and clinging to my toes, when I found myself slipping into Magnation. Before I knew it, I found myself at the register, handing over the cover price for The Gentlewoman, even though a magazine allowance is not part of my post-Christmas budget…

But oh, what a monetary mistake to make. The Gentlewoman is going down as my magazine find to rival all others. Smart, intriguing, beautifully photographed, with quality writing featuring fascinating women. Bliss.

"Because it hasn’t been tried, no one really knows whether poverty on a global scale can be overcome by a truly substantial amount of aid provided without political interferences."

— Peter Singer, The life you can save, p.119

I want to hug my books like this. Badly. (via WebUrbanist)

I want to hug my books like this. Badly. (via WebUrbanist)