Then a ploughman said, "Speak to us of Work." And he answered, saying:
You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the
earth. For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to
step out of life's procession, that marches in majesty and proud
submission towards the infinite. When you work you are a flute through
whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music. Which of you
would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in
unison? Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a
misfortune. But I say to you that when you work you fulfill a part of
earth's furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born, And
in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life, And to
love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret.
But if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the
flesh a curse written upon your brow, then I answer that naught but the
sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written. You have been
told also life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was
said by the weary. And I say that life is indeed darkness save when
there is urge, And all urge is blind save when there is knowledge, And
all knowledge is vain save when there is work, And all work is empty
save when there is love; And when you work with love you bind yourself
to yourself, and to one another, and to God. And what is it to work
with love? It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart,
even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth. It is to build a house
with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house. It
is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as
if your beloved were to eat the fruit. It is to charge all things you
fashion with a breath of your own spirit, And to know that all the
blessed dead are standing about you and watching. Often have I heard
you say, as if speaking in sleep, "he who works in marble, and finds
the shape of his own soul in the stone, is nobler than he who ploughs
the soil. And he who seizes the rainbow to lay it on a cloth in the
likeness of man, is more than he who makes the sandals for our feet."
But I say, not in sleep but in the over-wakefulness of noontide, that
the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of
all the blades of grass; And he alone is great who turns the voice of
the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving. Work is love made
visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is
better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the
temple and take alms of those who work with joy. For if you bake bread
with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's
hunger. And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge
distils a poison in the wine. And if you sing though as angels, and
love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day
and the voices of the night.
I wish I could work with love. Too bad no one does their fucking job! I
hate repeating myself over and over again with no results. We all work
for the same company! Doesn’t that mean we are all on the same team?
Don’t teams work together? Maybe I’m missing an important memo
somewhere that says work against your teammate.
I hate that somehow society has placed money above all else and
therefore we have to work. Doing something I’m not interested in for
the rest of my life (at least until I retire) does not appeal to me.
That’s why I’m trying to build up my asset column. While many only
dream of being independently wealthy, I know that I will be rich. My
whole goal in life is to work with love. In order for me to do that I
need money to meet my daily needs. But once that issue is taken care of
I can work at helping others and not worry about a freaking paycheck!!!
I just wish I had a genie in a bottle so that my goals could be reached
instantaneously. I guess that’s the whole point of life…the journey.
I’m getting sick of this journey. I want results now!!!
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