Work

There is a quote scribbled on a post-it note and taped to my desk. It reads:

"Work! Thank God for the swing of it. For the clamouring, hammering ring of it." - Angela Morgan

This quote sat next to me all through my thesis. I noticed it as if for the first time again this morning. I was up before the sun and ready to write. It didn't feel exactly like writing. It felt more like clamouring than ringing. This evening, I took a walk around the Rose Bowl. It's a 3 mile tree lined track around the stadium. All kinds of people were walking their dogs, pushing strollers, running in pairs, and riding their bicycles. Then, as I rounded the first bend, I was overcome by at least 20 bikes speeding like a pack of wild animals right toward me.

It felt like this:

It stopped me as their tail wind blew through me and I found myself laughing. Their racing looked so graceful and colorful, more like gliding but, it was really the result of a whole lot of work. What looked like the freedom of flying was actually muscles at work, flexing and balancing and hanging on for dear life. 

So work is work and we are all doing it. Ringing, hammering, peddling or flying.