Meaningless work

 

“There is only one cause of unhappiness: the false beliefs you have in your head, beliefs so widespread, so commonly held, that it never occurs to you to question them.” ― Anthony de Mello

I’m sure, for most people, work is just work. You know, a means to an end.

Unfortunately, I’m not one of those people: for as long as I can recall, I’ve seen work as a spiritual pursuit, or at least I’ve seen it as more than economic endeavour.

Of course, in my zeal for the often mundane, I could be masking a whole slew of existential issues but I don’t think so. Let’s face it, given our tenure at the coalface, I can’t imagine a life devoted to the £/$ as being anything other than soul-less.

What about you?

What does work mean to you? Something to make the most of your life, or a crushing defeat of your greatest gifts?

If you fall into the latter camp, I suppose the next obvious question is what are you doing to make the most of your genius?

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