"I love not working. It's the best."
I am sure this sentiment would be echoed around the world by anyone so fortunate. Certainly my daughter has already been complaining about having to go to school. The fact is, though, that no matter what title someone has... CEO, Artist, Student, Mom.... work is unavoidable.
This is a concept I keep trying to explain to my seven year old though as yet I am pretty sure she still thinks I get to watch TV all day while she is at school. Of course there are days I wake up thinking how lovely it would be to lay in bed and watch Pride and Prejudice (again... for the 100th time). Hmmmm, let me just dream about that for a moment.
Okay, I'm back.
But clearly, I am here, working at my writing, rather than living that lovely dream. A good definition of maturity might be when someone stops trying to avoid work and instead, finds ways to make it interesting and fun. If every moment counts, then the ones I spend working had better fill a niche inside of me; be it creativity, hunger, beauty, health or fun. Better yet if that work somehow fills more than one of these needs.
Work does this unconciously. It does not point out, hey, guess what, your body's going to feel awsome after this 5 mile walk. Instead what ususally runs through my head is all of the other things I could be doing. It is only with supreme effort that I bring out this inner voice and actually listen to it. I think the reason it requires maturity is because frequently I demand proof that, indeed, work will actually make me feel good. The kitchen is a mess and I may want to avoid it, but if I work at it I can visualize how it will look when it is clean and imagine how good that will make me feel.
Probably, since my daughter has never actually had the experience of cleaning her room and feeling better about it afterward, this is a difficut idea for her to visualize. I keep hoping that at some point, though, it will click for her and she will link the fun she experiences learning about, say, Egypt with the work of going to school.
Until then however, I get the extra tough job of being a MOM and getting her on that school bus every morning.
I am sure this sentiment would be echoed around the world by anyone so fortunate. Certainly my daughter has already been complaining about having to go to school. The fact is, though, that no matter what title someone has... CEO, Artist, Student, Mom.... work is unavoidable.
This is a concept I keep trying to explain to my seven year old though as yet I am pretty sure she still thinks I get to watch TV all day while she is at school. Of course there are days I wake up thinking how lovely it would be to lay in bed and watch Pride and Prejudice (again... for the 100th time). Hmmmm, let me just dream about that for a moment.
Okay, I'm back.
But clearly, I am here, working at my writing, rather than living that lovely dream. A good definition of maturity might be when someone stops trying to avoid work and instead, finds ways to make it interesting and fun. If every moment counts, then the ones I spend working had better fill a niche inside of me; be it creativity, hunger, beauty, health or fun. Better yet if that work somehow fills more than one of these needs.
Work does this unconciously. It does not point out, hey, guess what, your body's going to feel awsome after this 5 mile walk. Instead what ususally runs through my head is all of the other things I could be doing. It is only with supreme effort that I bring out this inner voice and actually listen to it. I think the reason it requires maturity is because frequently I demand proof that, indeed, work will actually make me feel good. The kitchen is a mess and I may want to avoid it, but if I work at it I can visualize how it will look when it is clean and imagine how good that will make me feel.
Probably, since my daughter has never actually had the experience of cleaning her room and feeling better about it afterward, this is a difficut idea for her to visualize. I keep hoping that at some point, though, it will click for her and she will link the fun she experiences learning about, say, Egypt with the work of going to school.
Until then however, I get the extra tough job of being a MOM and getting her on that school bus every morning.
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