I want to share with you my favorite poem.
From the book The Prophet by Khalil Gibran called On Work.
You can actually see a little bit of it as a poster right behind me.
And I love this poem because in a culture that makes work something that we don't want to do,
We want to get on vacation,
We want to get to the weekend,
We want to get to retirement,
What this poem does is it connects us to the spiritual nature of work.
Helps us to see it and align with it in a space of devotion,
That we are actually devoting ourselves to something greater than ourselves when we're putting our whole hearts into something.
And that's so much of what I've wanted to do in all of my work.
And I want to encourage you to find the work that allows you to do the same.
And so this poem really speaks to that.
And so if you don't know The Prophet,
It is a book of sayings and prose poetry from Khalil Gibran.
And the story is a prophet that's leaving town and the whole townspeople gets together to ask the prophet to share one last piece of wisdom.
And they all give different topics.
Some people say,
Hey,
Speak to us on children.
Some people say,
Speak to us about marriage and laws and all different things.
And this is the one where someone says,
Speak to us of work.
And so here it is.
Then a plowman said,
Speak to us of work.
Any answers?
That you may keep pace with the earth.
And the soul of Earth.
For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons,
And to step out of life's procession that marches in majesty and proud submission 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,
While 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 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 labor is to be intimate with life's inmost secrets.
If you in your pain call birth an affliction in support of the flesh a curse written upon your brow,
Then I answer that not but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written.
You have been told also that life is darkness,
And 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 we work with love,
You bind yourself to yourself.
And to one another.
And to God.
What is it?
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 the fruit.
It is to charge all things you fashion with the breath of your breath.
Of your own spirit.
And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about 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 that not in sleep,
But in the over wakefulness of noon tide that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all 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.
Is love made visible?
And if you cannot work with love,
But only with distaste,
It is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
For to bake bread with indifference is to bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger.
And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes,
Your grudge distills a poison in the wine.
And if you sing as though as angels,
But love not the singing,
You muffle man's ears to the voices of the day.
And the voices of the night.
Thank you so much for watching.
If this resonated with you,
I'd love to hear in the comments.
I love exploring this topic of doing work that you love.
I actually created a course on here called Learn to Do Work You Love and we go through this poem and meditate a little bit on it too in the first couple days.
So if you're someone that's wanting to do work that they can put their heart into,
Please go check out that audio course called Learn to Do Work You Love.
Thank you and I'll see you soon.
