Let me describe today. I put dishes away. Had to take trash out. Cleaned the back yard and the front yard. Took air conditioning units from my grandmother's house down a flight of stairs. All before noon. And I was completely happy. It wasn't for another hour to realize how much this didn't make sense.
Do we find ourselves happier when we have something to do? Does doing good well and truly bring about good? The rest of today I have had a feeling of peace, and the only true work I've done since is fiddle with some laundry, take dishes up and downstairs, and think really hard that it would be a great idea to consider mowing the lawn. Still this feeling of workmanlike accomplishment persists.
There is a real and significant emotional impact brought about doing work we believe in. Human beings are not built to emulate sloths, but to achieve something that they know to be worthy of their time. We fail, we succeed, we keep trying anything to find this feeling of achievement. Or so we hope.
I am not saying I am a perfect worker. Last Thursday, I had a pure day off. No job to go to, no need to clean the house, I didn't even leave the house. And I accomplished measurable skills. I honed my skills at Madden, studied the intricacies of Weeds, and I may have even picked up a book. But I hated myself for doing nothing that I considered growing my mind...except for Weeds, but that's a discussion for another time.
We want our days off, we need our days off. But more and more I'm understanding why parents are more than willing to help out with their child's soccer team, or teachers spending a weekend working with the drama club, or even just being that mean person that wants to take a hike in October. People want to feel active and productive; not some days, but every day. And once we recognize this, once we give ourselves permission to squander our free time actually being active, is when we realize our potential for doing good is truly limitless.
Stay Strange, folks
