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attitude shift

I've been dreading this Monday ever since the Holidays started. In fact, it's the reason why I haven't fully enjoyed the vacation.

When I woke up this morning, I felt I was dragging myself to face the day. I ate breakfast, I took a bath, then while I was dressing up, words finally formed to describe that thing that i want to say to myself for the inevitable return to work. 

More than a career shift, I need an attitude shift.

I really did not need to switch careers early in the race. I haven't even passed the bar yet.

And then I remembered all the jobs that I had.. Especially with the copyediting job, where I waited until it was deadline before I worked onsomething. I realized that, if that I had to change my fundamental attitude about work itself. I will never be satisfied with my work in whatever it is that I am going to do if all I am going to do is turn out some half-baked half-done mediocre work. I have to be satisfactory, if not excellent.

 

If I don't change this attitude, I will never be happy wherever I may be. I can be in the dreamiest job possible but if my attitude about it is crappy, then the job will be crappy.

 

Kahlil Gibran, in his book “The Prophet” talked about love in this way:

 

Then the 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 tos tep out of life's procession that marches in majesty and proud submissio 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 labor a misfortune.

 

But I say to you that when you work you fulfill a part of the earth's furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born.

 

And in keeping yourself with labor you are in truth loving life,

 

And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's innermost secret.

 

But if you in your pain call birth and 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 that life is darkness, that 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 youself to yourself, and to one another, and to God.

 

And what it is 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 that fruit.

 

It is to charge all things your 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 plows 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 overwakefulness of noontide, that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of 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 distate, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms from those who work with joy.

 

For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger.

 

And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distills a poison with wine.

 

And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's eras to the voices of the dat and the voices of the night.


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amianan_a_raya
amianan_a_raya

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