The sun has emerged just as the earth is heaving a huge sigh of relief for the long cold spell is breaking today. The heat pump which struggled to keep us warm as we are accustomed in our large house full of windows has taken leave to rest. The frost has disappeared, the ice has melted, and the soil has softened, allowing the scent of earth to waft as we crunch leaves and walk George. He responds by digging with his nose, smelling and rooting for things we cannot sense. He knows his good fortune.
The squirrels are busy bounding and searching for hidden treasures. The crows are loud and mischievous. The deer, still in herds, are out and about. Yet, no one is fooled for the sun doesn't tell a lie. The days are still short and the light angled on the horizon just below the visor's reach to blind on the late afternoon drive as I pick up my younger daughter from school, reminders that winter has just begun. Although I wanted only to nest and expend energy primarily staying warm, comforted, and nourished over the last two weeks, I feel the urge to get things done, to check a few things off the perennial list of tasks that eluded me as the temperatures fell to the single digits.
Getting to work, I feel better. I come from a family of hard workers, of self-made men and women who made a better life for themselves and their children with a bit of luck and lots of sweat equity. I know that a good work ethic can get one much farther than innate abilities or intelligence -- not that those hurt but one can overcome many deficiencies with focused and determined effort. Back when I hired staff and teachers, I looked for those ready to roll up their sleeves. Nonprofits and educational institutions are not made for those who aren't ready to labor long and strenuously to make a vision become a reality.
I think we tend to forget that it is a privilege to work hard at something we value and enjoy -- not every day or every task, of course, but for the most part. Ask someone out of work and looking to return or those whose physical challenges now block them from fully engaging in their work lives. And, I think of those who may never know the joys of engaging, hard work, living in communities where jobs are far and few between. My father held a full-time job from age 14 until well into his 70's. The deprivations of WWII made him fully aware that it is a privilege to work hard and provide for self and family. Of course, earning a living wage in the process is also part of the equation, but let's leave that topic for another day.
Now, I can set my complaints about the cold weather aside. I can enjoy the thaw and get to work. I can be useful with purpose and join the masses who simply get things done. Day is dawning, streaming through barren branches, yet the trees are hard at work, too. Buds are slowly emerging and preparations are well underway for spring. All living things join in production as the earth continues to spin and the seasons pass one day at a time.
To Be of Use
Marge Piercy
The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy
cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things
forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.
