We lived for a few years in the mountain resort town of Fernie in BC. The town is nestled in a valley between two mountain ranges one of which is the home to the primary draw of the town, its ski hill, Fernie Alpine Resort. It’s known for its reliable and substantial snow fall. As people flock to the resort on powder days, parking is a process that must be endured. In our time there we got to see a community asset showcase his skills day after day in all kinds of inclement weather. One parking attendant stood out. He did what seemed like a straightforward and menial task with pride and goodwill. He directed people to their spot in which to park and did so in a friendly and engaging manner. People navigating their way through the snowy mess of weather and traffic did so a little easier with his help. In most circumstances, we see this role done by those that barely got any sleep the night before and are, literally, tuned out from the world around them and tuned in to their headphones. The default in this role is to do as little as possible. The efforts of most in this function is to reflect the little appreciation that most using the service feel towards them. Both sides are invisible to each other. However, our man in Fernie was anything but invisible. He became a pleasant fixture in the process. He was reliably present and engaged. He helped us get a good start to our family fun on the mountain.
In an article written by Jeff Minick titled The Value and Dignity of Work, Minick notes, “All work is a form of service, often unrecognized as such by the laborer himself, to our fellow human beings.” I believe our parking attendant was aware of his contributions to others. He was happy to help and took pride in his role. As Minick writes, “Our attitude toward work tells others who we are.” He goes further offering, “Work, no matter what it is, doesn’t bring dignity to us. No—we bring dignity to the work, and the key to that dignity is our attitude.” In other words, there’s honor in work. There’s those that delight in doing their duty. They do their do to earn their due. We don’t have to do great things to be great.
That’s what the well-worn story about the three brick layers is all about. A curious passerby comes across three men working on their craft of masonry. He asks each what they’re doing. The first, responds grudgingly that he’s just doing this crummy job because he has bills to pay. The second is a little less grumpy and is doing the work to provide for his family. The third, though, is engrossed in his efforts, working with a smile on his face and sweat on his brow. His reason for working is that he’s contributing to building a cathedral to be used to celebrate the religious beliefs of its congregants. He knows his efforts will be enjoyed by many for generations to come. His efforts are making a meaningful difference and, as such, he’s taking care to bring his best work.
Our third brick layer is living the wisdom of George Bernard Shaw who offered, “The true joy in life is to be a force of fortune instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.” Our first bricklayer is grumpy and thinking only of his own needs embroiled in complaint. The third wanted to be there. He took pride in his work. He believed he added value. He saw his contributions as a “get to”. As soon as we view something as “have to”, we are eliminating some of our effort, pride, commitment. Unfortunately, the first bricklayer was doing his job out of obligation. As such, he lost enthusiasm.
As Jean De La Fontaine observed, “By the work one knows the workmen.” We come to know the character of someone by watching them work. After all, as Aristotle observed, “We are what we repeatedly do.” And to those that are doing good work, lean on the guidance of Henry J. Kaiser who wrote, “When your work speaks for itself, don’t interrupt.” Our attitude and effort towards work reflects more about us than it does the work.
In Seven Men: And the Secret of Their Greatness, Eric Metaxas writes of the late Pope John Paul II. Metaxas notes that the future Pope during WWII noticed the sacrifices many made through their work. Metaxas writes, “The years of occupation and the manual labor they brought with them taught him something else besides. They ‘introduced him,’ as Weigel puts it, ‘to a world he had never known before, the world of the industrial laborer.’ In this world he learned new lessons about the dignity of labor and of those who performed it.”
A Sisyphean Task is a term that refers to any burdensome and repetitive task that is required to be done. It comes from the Greek myth of Sisyphus. Sisyphus had done something to anger the Gods. As punishment, he’s condemned to an eternal life where his job is to push a large, heavy boulder up a hill daily only to have the Gods roll the rock back down the hill to be done. In an interview between Robert F. Kennedy Jr and Lex Fridman, Kennedy responds to a question regarding the French Philosopher Albert Camus’ perspective on the Greek Myth of Sisyphus. Kennedy offers, “Camus’ belief was even though the task of Sisyphus was insurmountable, Sisyphus was a happy man. And he was a happy man because he put his shoulder to the stone. He took his duty, he embraced the task, the absurdity of life, and pushed the stone up the hill. And, that if we do that and if we can find ways of being of service to others, that is, the ultimate, that’s the key to the lock to the solution to the puzzle.” Work, we can either view it as drudgery or as the principal part of a well-lived life. Our view influences the posture we present when facing it.
Sure, maybe some of us are lucky and have jobs we like. This places us in Mark Twain’s world where, “Find a job you enjoy doing, and you will never have to work a day in your life.” However, it may be less about liking the work and more about just doing the work that breeds a sense of fulfillment. Ben Franklin observed, ”It is the working man who is the happy man. It is the idle man who is the miserable man.” And an ancient rule attributed to St. Benedict suggests that, “idleness is the enemy of the soul.” Work is worthwhile. It’s not something to be avoided. Past President Theodore Roosevelt gave us, “Far and away the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.”
Along a similar vein, Patrick O’Shaughnessy offered as a definition of “life’s work:” “A lifelong quest to build something for others that expresses who you are.” Sounds like a pretty good thing, no? This doesn’t seem like something from which to shy away. Within his book, The Prophet, written 100 years ago, Khalil Gibran noted writing “On Work,”
“And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life’s inmost secret ….
And what is it to work with love? …
It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit. …
Work is love made visible.”
The nature of our work doesn’t define us. Our attitude towards work does. As Sam Ewing observed, “Hard work spotlights the character of people: some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don’t turn up at all.” Unfortunately, many of us view work negatively as a four-letter word. Thomas Edison observed, “opportunity is missed by most because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.” When we work to avoid working, we lose out. We lose out on self-respect as well as stumbling across opportunities. Sure, work is a four-letter word. But so are the words live, life, and love. Life’s better when our work is meaningful and purposeful.
Work is worthwhile where we focus on what we’re giving to it as opposed to what we can take from it. Intead of worrying about what we’re getting out of work, we should try to get over ourselves and focus on others. Seek to serve. Give. Shift your sights to considering a question like, “In what way can I contribute?” Writing about the early stages of legendary NFL coach Bill Belichick’s career, Ryan Holiday notes in Ego is the Enemy, “He thrived on what was considered grunt work, asked for it and strove to become the best at precisely what others thought they were too good for.” As a young coach, Belichick saw opportunity in doing the things others didn’t want to do. He didn’t look with disdain at tedious and menial tasks. He saw a way to showcase himself. Belichick was living the encouragement of the poet Mary Oliver, “May I be the tiniest nail in the house of the universe, tiny but useful.” By starting simply and embracing the basic tasks, one earns the opportunity to do more. Belichick had the sense to see that certain tasks had to get done, others didn’t want to do them, being willing to do them offered an opportunity for positive differentiation. He then came to see what Philip Stanhope observed which is, “whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well.” Belichick built a career that has placed him as one of the best coaches of all time in any sport by combining industriousness with conscientiousness. Being willing to both work hard and work to do a good job have been core ingredients in his and many others rise across time and domain. That is, that work, works.
“Action is hope. At the end of each day, when you’ve done your work, you lie there and think, Well, I’ll be damned, I did this today.” Ray Bradbury
Summary Points:
There’s those that delight in doing their duty.
We come to know the character of someone by watching them work.
Our character evolves from our contributions.
Work, we can either view it as drudgery or as the principal part of a well-lived life.
Our view influences the posture we present when facing it.
Work is worthwhile. It’s not something to be avoided.
Work is worthwhile where we focus on what we’re giving to it as opposed to what we can take from it.
Work, works.
