“I can honestly say that I have
never worked a day in my life.” The elderly horticulturalist, standing
surrounded by the multicoloured flowers of his garden, gestured towards their
loveliness. “How can I say that looking after these flowers is work? It is sheer
pleasure. It is for these that I wake up in the morning, hurry to get dressed
and have my breakfast so than I can be in the garden as early as possible and
for as long as possible. Ever since I was a child I have loved plants and so,
as an adult, I do the same sort of things that I did many years ago: I play in
the garden. That is why I say that I have never worked a day in my entire life.
Planting seeds and watching them grow is not work. Clearing a patch of soil so
that it produces flowers is not work. Digging the soil, even when it is hard,
is something I did from my earliest years. I do not work: I play - and I play
from morning till night.”
Sadly, not everybody finds such
joy in their work. For many people across the world, work is drudgery and far
below their potential. A lack of education, skills and opportunities limit
countless numbers of individuals from finding a worthwhile occupation that will
give them peace, happiness and an income adequate to support themselves and
their families. In developing countries where subsistence farming alone
provides the next meal, people often have time for leisure, but only after
backbreaking work with rudimentary tools. A mission doctor working in a remote
area of Zambia, for instance, found as a result of her studies that for many of
the families for whom she cared, the possession of a bicycle made the
difference between subsistence and enough. “Having a bike”, she commented,
“means that a member of the household has transport to buy and carry seeds and
fertiliser more efficiently than when the only means of leaving the village is
on foot. Frequently, the bike is also used, especially during the dry season,
to carry water to the field and also to the house. At harvest time, crops can
be taken to more distant markets than when they have to be carried in small
bundles on the heads and backs of family members. This means that a family can
grow some crops for their own use and some as a means of income.”
In countries such as India, where
the caste system is often the overriding factor, many occupations are limited
by social status. It is extremely difficult, for instance, for an adivasi (a
member of an indigenous ethnic group) or a dalit (lowest caste or
‘untouchable’) to progress beyond the most menial occupations.
Yet it is not long ago that, in
this country, people from the lower reaches of society were described as “not
knowing their station” if they tried to find a better way of life. Even
education was limited, so that they would “know their place”. Their “betters”
worried lest literacy give them “ideas”. Those who followed the progress of the
characters of Downton Abbey will
recall the horror of some members of “the family” when a maid wanted to find
work as a secretary rather than to continue looking after the people “upstairs”.
Work is a real value of our
society. It confers dignity, self-respect, status, interest and provides an
income. We expect people to work and earn their living. Even St Paul wrote, “If
they will not work, let them not eat”. In times past, much was made of the
“deserving and undeserving poor”. Poverty was often seen as culpable. If
someone was hard-up, it was their own fault. This attitude led to the
establishment of the workhouses where many thousands of impoverished families
were consigned when they had no other resources to keep them together. The hard
work to which even small children were subjected was slavery. It was no
different to the plight of those people who were forcibly transported from
their own homes, often to other countries, to work for others for little or no
pay. Slavery continues today: witness the current efforts to address issues of
human trafficking.
Our society regards employment as
of such high value that to be unemployed can be excruciatingly difficult. Of
course there are families where laziness and benefits are transmitted from
generation to generation, but they are in the minority. To be unable to find
work can be totally demoralising for the individual and for the family. That is
why we have recently heard that first-year university students begin searching
for a job rather than waiting until their final year. Many graduates, even a
couple of years after leaving university, have still not found an opening in
their chosen field.
Many of us also know the
sickening feeling which accompanies the discovery that a job has been
terminated, perhaps by redundancy or illness or some other cause. The future
becomes a complete unknown and a nightmare as seemingly secure ground slips
away. Uncertainty about the future accompanies every waking moment and disturbs
every hope of a good night’s sleep.
For some migrants, the laws of
their new countries limit their possibilities of making a new life. I well
remember a situation in Melbourne many years ago, when a Vietnamese doctor and
a psychiatrist could only get jobs as a bus conductor and driver. Having risked
their lives as boat people to travel to Australia, the chances of eventually
practising their professions depended on their willingness to take up work far
below their capabilities for a government-specified period.
The poet and philosopher Kahlil
Gibran wrote that, “all work is empty save when there is love”. True, but what
about the times when it is only love that enables someone to continue working,
day after day, when what they are doing is mindlessly boring and perhaps a
cause of great suffering? Is that work “empty” or martyrdom? What happens when those
for whom the hours of “hard labour” are spent
do not appreciate such self-sacrifice, determination and perseverance?
Gibran also said that, “When you
work with love, you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to
God." One’s occupation can be a wonderful way of self-discovery. It can
also be an amazing opportunity to find meaning in life through a developing relationship
with workmates and with God. It is not surprising that the Psalmist once
prayed, “Give success to the work of our hands”.
When Gibran reflected that, “Work is love made visible”, he was speaking of the ideal.
Not all of us are as fortunate as the horticulturalist who so loved his
occupation that it was like playing. To a certain extent, he was being
facetious: he knew full well that to bring his garden to its perfection had required
considerable hard work. There were probably days when he would also have
preferred to turn over in bed and sleep for another hour. There must have been
times when the last things he wanted to see were his gardening tools. Yet his
success lay in the fact that he tried, tried and tried again - just like the
rest of us - and the results were spectacular.
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