Deprivation testing on life: coping with life changes
My job assignment will end soon, and I will not have the job haven until I find my next gig. The uncertain situation made me think about what being without a job means to me. There is a user research method called deprivation testing. To carry it out, we give participants a new product to use for a period of time and let them build new surroundings and habits, then we take the product away from them. The goal is to evaluate what aspects of the new product would stick to the consumers. The current situation feels like a deprivation testing on life.
For the first time, I examined what’s around and within me when I am out of a job. Here is the list:
- Portfolio — Project experience that I accumulated.
- Books — Authors of the books on my bookshelf would share their wisdom with me regardless of my situation.
- Paintings and canvases — I could rely on appreciating or using them to remind myself of beauty and colors.
- Medium page — Blog posts with my passion for sharing nuggets of cultural phenomena.
- Health and fitness habit — I’ve formed a habit of maintaining healthy and fit: doing physical exercises, practicing mindfulness, and eating healthy.
- Meaningful relationships — I met people whom I feel comfortable to open myself up to; people who held my hands when I felt lost and helped me find my way back to my true self in confusing times.
- Memories — Episodes that were recorded when I opened myself to experiences that brought me joys, pains, and growth opportunities.
With these invaluable assets, I don’t feel completely depleted. What is left in our emotional haven depends on what we have been building. In this fast-paced world, we invest our attention in items we think would be right for us. Most of us believe that ambition is worth our attention investment, for things like building a career, developing a romantic relationship, constructing online self-representations, etc. Although they are arguably essential, we sometimes devote all our attention to these aspects and neglect to build other potentially important pillars.
In my own deprivation test, I identified these other pillars that I’ve been investing time in: art, knowledge, experience, passion, health, connection, and narratives. These pillars have similar characteristics: they are less perceptible and difficult, but meaningful and authentic. They would require enduring and disciplined attention investment and some might not yield any tangible returns. But in a crisis like a pandemic, these intangible things gave me a haven to recharge, the strength to face the challenges, and the belief that I still have choices and opportunities.
We are told that anything that doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, but we are rarely told how to find the strength. In this pandemic, I saw many forms of suffering from deprivations. My friends used different coping mechanisms to deal with loneliness but they still suffered from the deprivation of social life. One of my favorite professors from graduate program passed away from COVID 19, and his family suffered from the deprivation of a loved member. Numerous workers suffered from deprivation of jobs after waves of layoffs, including many foreign workers who might be faced the possibility of closing their chapters in the United States. For many souls, the pandemic has been a devastating test on their power.
Search and you find strength and options. When deprived of a loved family member, we could choose to be strong for the other devastated members who would need more support. When deprived of social life, we could choose to spend more quality time with ourselves. When deprived of the possibility of continuing living in a place that we love, we could choose to fight for the continuity or open ourselves up to other possibilities that the world has to offer. All of these require strengths and beliefs. We are warriors in our life, and most of us got this.
That said, even the strongest human couldn’t sustain a mountain of negative events, let alone ordinary humans. From a collective point of view, we shouldn’t neglect the fact that some individuals aren’t capable of fighting for themselves and would need care from the system. I can think of the essential workers, the homeless, residents in the senior centers, jobless parents with responsibilities, etc. This would require the institution to identify the powerless, recognize their needs, and offer the needed support.
The pandemic is a harrowing crisis, but it’s also an opportunity for us to examine the valuables in our life. Individually, examine carefully your inner powerhouse, and start building the strength for preparing the next crisis. Humanly, let’s share more encouragement, sympathy, and support.
