My cultural awakening: The Big Lebowski inspired me to embrace unemployment | culture

SQuitting your job in your 30s without a solid plan is generally considered a bad decision. Doing it because you watched The Big Lebowski is probably even worse. But as I faced what would be my eighth year in an IT position, I watched Jeff Bridges navigate his way through the chaos of life in a nightgown. And I found myself thinking: Maybe the guy found out.

For most of my working life, work strongly reinforced my identity: good professional performance was proof of my usefulness and respect (despite the fact that no one really understood what my job was anyway). Like most millennials, I felt very lucky to eventually get a job out of college at all, especially one that paid more than a “living wage.” Furthermore, as a second-generation immigrant, I was repeatedly told from a young age that being unemployed was a terrible situation.

I’ve been unhappy for a while, but leaving without a new role to go to always seemed completely out of the question. But life has a funny way of telling you when you’re not where you should be; Against my will, I was transferred to another department, with a nightmare boss. I then got another role where my colleagues were nice, but the job was completely uncreative and uninteresting. Soon after, senior leadership started talking about job cuts, and it was clear that we were expected to do just as much with less.

When I watched the Coen Brothers’ 1998 classic The Big Lebowski two years ago, I spent most of it scrolling through my phone and then stupidly wondered why I didn’t find the film particularly interesting. But this summer, faced with a daunting project that I had almost no passion for, and with nothing else to distract me, I watched it properly for the first time. I was completely captivated. I watched it every day for a week, reading parts of the script and scouring the internet for any half-decent podcasts about it, so I could figure out why a movie that seemed so ridiculous meant so much to me, too.

Many people have described encountering Dude-ism as an almost religious experience, and there was certainly something philosophical about my sudden affection for the film. Jeff Bridges’ bowling slacker’s attitude is to “take it easy” in a chaotic world that constantly tries to get him to hurry up and get moving. One of his opponents, a philanthropist known as “Big Lebowski,” represents the absurdity of modern capitalist life, shouting “Get a job, sir!” and “The bums will always lose!” Most people treat the man as an unemployed spendthrift against the backdrop of the economic boom of the 1990s. But at the end of the film, it’s hard not to believe that the man is the one who is truly rich in life. He maintains his inner calm, despite all the madness surrounding him.

I knew I was losing myself, getting caught up in workplace politics or tasks that I didn’t care about anymore. The final straw came in a meeting with a director, where I was encouraged to learn more skills for a role I was already checking out. “What’s the dude going to do?” I asked myself. I already got my answer.

Not everyone initially thought it was a great idea. “But what if your boiler breaks down?” cried my mother, anxiously anticipating any little thing that might go awry. However, my mind was made up. I handed in my notice without anything specific and accepting that life is full of “blows and gutters”.

One of the most strikingly beautiful aspects of The Big Lebowski is the bowling alley the man goes to, a space of familiar calm and simplicity. Since leaving, I have become more immersed in those little rituals of peace, repetition, and community; Cook a meal from scratch in peace and quiet, and have coffee with a friend to talk about absolutely nothing. Away from the demands of a full-time job, I was able to remember what was truly important in life.

I don’t live exactly like a dude. After all, I still have a mortgage to pay. Right now, I’m living on savings from my old job, a small income from a media and education platform I continue to fundraise for, and a little journalistic work.

I know a lot of this is privilege, but I’m grateful that I have the option to live at a slower pace, and on my own terms. And if you still think my decision to be unemployed was a bad idea, that’s just your opinion, man.