Work (And Words)

John O'Donahue was a priest before he was a poet.

He published a book titled "To Bless The Space Between Us: A Collection of Invocations and Blessings".

The blessings tackle specific topics. One that caught my eye recently was "Blessing of Your Work", because it describes the exact opposite of what most peoples' work lives are, but should be.

I'll borrow a few lines:

"May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul"

"May your work never weary you"

"May it release within you wellsprings, inspiration and excitement"

"May evening find you gracious and fulfilled"

Tough to feel these things when you work for Kentucky Fried Chicken. Or any job that is not in sync with who you are. I get that. And for me to say this is what work should be for us wee humans is ridiculously pretentious.

But one topic I have hammered away at in here is that our jobs make us miserable. And it is precisely because you cannot see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.

Work dominates our lives. Everything revolves around work. Work literally runs your life. For forty years or more.

Think about that. Forty years during which your personal life takes a back seat. Your hopes, your dreams (if you have any), simple pleasures, freedom from stress and anxiety. 

I draw comfort from O'Donahue's words but I am not sure why. They sure as hell don't apply to me. I guess it is that soul-deep longing we have for our lives to make sense. Again, the difference between what it means to be human versus what life requires of us causes great pain.

Except for the "suck it up" crowd. They feel no pain. Or pretend not to. I have no respect for that point of view. I would rather keep my emotions alive than kill them because "this is the way life is."

The subject is convoluted. There are those who say everybody has a special talent; you just gotta figure out what it is and work at it to make yourself happy.

I don't believe that. There are special people and there are worker bees. I worked with a woman many years ago whose ultimate compliment always was "He's a good worker." She meant he did his job, kept his head down, did not make waves etc. A worker bee.

I don't think that is much of a compliment. Individuality, creativity, uniqueness - these are compliments.

I just realized I pretty much don't have a point here. I guess John O'Donahue's words soothe my soul and feed the wishful part of my brain, but they are very much divorced from reality. 

Unfortunately.

I will stick with my belief that our jobs are the most powerful source of most of our unhappiness. And that unhappiness feeds violence and resentment and criminality and destructiveness and self-abuse.

That is not the way life should be.

I doubt there will ever be a solution.