March 2006 | The EM Column
Living an Engaged Life
The Yiddish word, “nahkes,” describes a joy and spiritual purpose in life—and a way to nourish our columnist as much as food, water, shelter or love.
By Silja J.A. Talvi
When I was invited to consider writing a monthly column for this magazine’s former incarnation, the Evergreen Monthly, I accepted the offer with utmost enthusiasm. I hadn’t been looking for this kind of a job, but I took it on the spot because I was genuinely excited by the prospect of working with the magazine’s editor, Bob Condor. Bob was eager and willing to give me a regular outlet for a far more personal form of expression than I can impart in my work as an investigative journalist.
Underneath the enthusiasm, I wondered if you, as the readers, would really want to hear what I had to say, for the reason that my writing tends to grapple with uncomfortable truths and realities. I have always been inclined to write about human experiences and realities that might otherwise remain ignored or silenced, and this column was not going to be an exception.
I don’t regret having this personality as a writer, but I’ll be the first to admit that my truth-telling, no-bullshit impulse has made it harder throughout my decade-long career to “market” my work the way a truly industrious and profit-minded freelancer is supposed to go about it.
Most modern-day media outlets have set expectations of their writers and, by extension, a very limited perception of what readers and viewers actually want to‘digest.’ As a result, the prevailing media formula is one that primarily revolves around entertainment, distraction, and/or fear-inspiring emphasis on crime, scandal, and human pathology. (“If it bleeds, it leads,” as the saying goes in newsrooms across the country.)
It’s still acceptable, to some degree, for writers to come across as a bit eccentric, neurotic, smart-mouthed or cynical—but never too serious. The central idea is to keep the material as light, sarcastic and/or humorous as possible, while more‘serious’ topics are supposed to be delivered with an authoritative yet approachable tone.
This is a business that loves self-declared “experts,” whether the topics revolve around relationships, diets, sports or politics. Toward that end, writers who expect longevity in the business are guided to build a reputation around a particular expertise, and usually to affect a casual, friendly, sarcastic or absolutist political tone. If a reader puts down your article with more questions than answers, there’s a prevailing perspective in this business that you’ve “failed” to do your job as a writer.
More calling than business
I see my role as a writer from the perspective of an engaged citizen who wants a healthier, more equitable future for all of us. For me, journalism and essay writing have never been about doing “business”; the power of the word has always felt like a‘calling’ more than a career strategy.
If one of my columns or articles manages to provide a reader with a new way of looking at something—particularly if I’ve provoked the spirit of critical inquiry—I feel as though I’ve done something worthwhile. Most of us need them to be able to make a living, but paychecks are pieces of paper with numbers that get turned into other pieces of papers with numbers when rent is due. A reader’s letter in response to an article I’ve written, on the other hand, gives me exacty the kind of nakhes I need to keep doing this work.
Nakhes is another one of those fabulous Yiddish words that has no exact English translation. In general terms, nakhes describes a sense of pride and satisfaction, of joy and spiritual purpose in one’s own life. To gain nakhes from my writing is to fill a unique need in my life that nothing else can provide; I need it as much as food and water, shelter, walks in nature and love.
The daily challenge of arranging words to impart specific feelings can be likened to my search for meaning in life. The pieces are all there for the choosing, but the skill—the challenge and beauty—is in figuring out how to put them together. Simply put, it’s the nakhes of writing that keeps me doing this work week after week, month after month, year after year, wearing out the letters out on my keyboard.
For as long as I’ve worked with my editor at this magazine, I feel like I’ve been blessed to be able to work with someone who doesn’t just think about journalism as a business but as a way of contributing to the progressive development and well-being of our human community. That’s a rare thing these days.
Taking leave
I’m taking the time to say all of this now because, as of this column, I’ll be taking an extended hiatus to complete a book about the root causes and effects of the unsurpassed rates of incarceration of girls and women in the United States. I still plan on contributing the occasional piece to Conscious Choice when I’m able. But, in the meantime, I want to extend a sincere and heartfelt thank you to you, the readers, for your interest in my work—and for choosing to read the kind of conscious, engaged writing that this magazine strives to publish every month.
Here’s to bringing more compassion, consciousness and nakhes into all of our lives. Although we can lose sight of it easily, it’s still true that every little bit of it that we can find for ourselves—and generate for others—makes a difference in some qualitative way. Toward that end, I hope this magazine will continue to inspire you, to give you new ideas and to stimulate new questions. The relationship between a publication and its readers should always be a dynamic one, and this is one magazine that truly takes that concept to heart.
Read Silja J.A. Talvi’s Conscious Choice and Evergreen Monthly archive of columns and stories at www.well.com/user/sisu
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