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The Labour of Looking and Being

Updated: 12 hours ago

What if the hardest work we do is not what we are paid for, but what we carry in silence: the labour of looking, and the courage to be?


An abstract illustration evoking the quiet motion of searching, the gentle tension of waiting, and the stillness of presence — fluid shapes and soft hues blend to reflect the invisible labour of looking, hoping, and simply being.

"Unemployment is an opportunity."


That is what the tbd Community website said, and it made me pause. I have been sitting with that thought.


What does it really mean when someone asks, “What do you do?”


The expected answer is usually tied to a job title: something at somewhere. Rarely is the question meant to ask who you are, what inspires you, what makes you happy, what saddens you.


Rarely is the answer expected to be: simply living, pausing, exploring, or healing.


I have come to realise how little value is given to simply being. To existing. To trying. To dreaming. To choosing a life that does not always follow the LinkedIn script.


Instead, worth is often tied to how much one produces. Our value becomes transactional.


For the past few months, I have been in friction with this narrative.


I get up each morning, check my tracker, scroll through LinkedIn, and write to people and organisations I imagine enjoying working with. Some reply. Some don't. I move on the next.


I write about what moves me. I do the work of hoping. I do the work of imagining. It is not romantic. It keeps me together. It drives me. It is living.


As American anthropologist David Graeber argued in Bullshit Jobs, there is a profound disconnect between what moves people, what inspires them, and the jobs they end up doing just to survive.


I am in that in-between space right now, and I am learning that unemployment is not just a gap, but a mirror. A reminder. A question: What does it mean to live meaningfully beyond job titles and productivity?


I have not found “my job” yet. Maybe it is still finding me. But in the meantime, I am here. Building. Learning. Showing up. And that counts too.


Mirror self-portrait taken during a guest labour exhibition in Vienna, showing the reflection of the photographer amidst a quiet moment of observation and self-inquiry.
A mirror photo I took on May 17, 2024, while covering an exhibition in Vienna about Turkish guest labour in Austria — a moment that quietly mirrored my own questions about work, worth, and visibility.


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