We
are not often content, even less often are we working and happy. Work is all
too often a means to an end, whether that end is an item, an experience, or
just time in which to “not work”. But it is a marvelous thing to be busy and
happy; to throw yourself into a task with no thought of after, or the rewards
that may or may not come. All that matters is the work, and what it asks or
requires of you. Whether the job is a stern taskmaster, an old friend, or a
provocative lover, it must be done to the fullest.
Not
because someone demands it of you, or holds a threat like an axe above your
head, but because you demand it of yourself. You chain yourself to this rock,
and as you push it up the hill the key jumps and jangles in your pocket. But
you don’t want to be free, you want to be fulfilled. You want to see, to learn,
to know what you’re capable of. There is no feeling in the world quite like
reaching your own boundaries, and crossing them, into new lands and new
experiences.
