Work, Work, Work…
Work, a job, that place I go to, my career, my second home, whatever you call It, some form of work is being conducted there. There is some action being involved, some form of work has been, will be, and in the moment is being conducted in order for things to workout. For me it was a very simple concept to understand as work was something that was just put into me from a young age. I can’t say it was from my dad but from my Papa (my grandfather) who taught me early what it meant to work, but it took until now to realize what he was teaching me.
I loved but hated spending the night at my Papa’s house and when we lived less than 15 minutes away it happened very frequently. Spending the night meant the best homecooked meals, but it always came with a price. Actually, to be honest everything that was great at my Papa’s house came with a price. Some form of work was always and still having to be done to reap some beautiful fried fish rewards. Early morning after early morning waking up to cut the grass, pick weeds, trim the hedges. Maybe I had that First World syndrome problem, but most people hired companies to do this, but not my Papa. Why hire when there are helping hands around that like to eat everything in sight. Yep, everything came with a price, but the rewards were beautiful.
As I grew older my visits and phone calls became to be less frequent with my Papa. Life got busy while I was at work creating this life for myself and my family. Even though the calls and visits were less the thoughts of my Papa grew more day by day. As some of those daily routines me and my Papa had started to become a part of my adult life. I love waking up early in the morning and has nothing to do with any motivational stuff, I just enjoy being up early. My Papa enjoys it, I do, and now my daughter does, we all love waking up early in the morning. It is hard to explain because it is something that was just worked in, but it came with a price, from a foundation of love. My Papa might not say he loves us much, but we just know, so he really doesn’t have to say it much. His actions spoke louder than words as we all realized this man really just loves what he does. Work is work no matter if you love it or hate it work has to get done. This man, my Papa loved what he did and whatever he did it came from love.
Those great fried fish rewards came with a price because the vegetables served were from Papa’s Garden. While we moaned and groaned all day tending to this forest aka Papa’s Garden, we did the opposite as we sat down for dinner stuffing our face full of the best homecooked meal. Not just any homecooked meal but with homegrown vegetables tended to with hands of love. Maybe that was and still is my Papa’s secret to always having a smile even when people are fussing, love. It’s one thing to work with the perspective of work and another with a perspective of love. Maybe the job you have currently you don’t prefer but you also know where you are going, and this is just a step along the way. Why not love the moment we are in enjoying the step, the process, the preparation for the next step.
My Papa never looked at the current situation, the early morning work, but instead focused on the dinner soon to be shared with love all around. Everything has its time and season, why not love it all in the process of being prepared for the next step…
