There’s a saying “If you do what you love you’ll never work a day in your life.” Which is sort of true. And sort of isn’t. If you do what you love you’ll most likely work at it. It just won’t feel like labor. More like growing something. Whatever your thing is.
 
There’s a luxury to doing what one loves. And a responsibility. If you love it you’re gonna be there. You won’t even know it. You just inhabit your space. It’s natural. Not talking about happiness here. Happiness is great. Happiness is that thing which brilliantly punctuates this life. Radiant moments keep us keeping on. But it’s the spaces between happiness that bind us.  Daily things. Routines can be great. Or not so great. Consistency of change. Change as the only constant. Seizing opportunity. Getting unstuck. 
 
Thinking about working. And ways to love this life I’m living a little more as each September rolls around. “Everybody’s got their something”, someone else said. Lots of people saying things. A cacophony. Music.

The most fortuitous thing is having the freedom to choose that which you make your own. And then working it.





Labor Day

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