I’m not sorry for anyone’s being poor; I’m only sorry when they have no work. —Helena Morley—
Human beings have been described as animals with language, animals with laughter, tool-using animals, animals that play. But we’re pre-eminently animals that work. Small children’s play is imitation of the work they see adults doing. Fortunate adults put the same energy and devotion into their work as children do into their play. Work—-although we sometimes curse it— is a blessing.
Work, the work that is a real expression of the spirit, focuses our energy and allows us to be whole. Maybe our real work isn’t our job; maybe we feel whole when we’re carpentering or cooking or writing, and we think of these as “hobbies'” or “just stuff I do.” If we could bring to our jobs the concentration and pride with which we turn a chair leg or roll up sticky buns, we would exalt our working days.The jobs we do, the work for which we’re paid, are deeply important to most of us. When we find work we can love, and do it as well as we’re able, we’ve earned a victory in life…I will try to be able to say of my work today, “I would do this even if I weren’t paid for it.”