The Sacred Crux of Time

A healthy Conservatism is committed to the past, the present, and the future. It keeps our present rooted in the love and wisdom of the ancestors, including honorably learning from their errors, failures and sacrifices. Likewise, a well-rooted, conscientious Conservatism approaches a brighter future through inculcating moral courage and critical thinking in younger generations. We who live in the present are always at the sacred crux of time, remembering the love of the ancestors while we have faith in the regenerative capabilities of generations of ancestors yet to come.

Emotional Disrespect of Childcare Workers and the Godlike Status of the Nuclear Family

One of the many reasons why I left working in the education and childcare field was how hard it was becoming for me to bond with a child and then lose that relationship at any time. The only way I felt invested in that work was to be a mentor, teacher or nanny who really formed a healthy and heart-centered relationship with the individual child with the hope of watching them grow over several years. But when parents too easily pull their children from one school or nanny for trivial reasons in search of ever greener grasses, as if raising kids were an accomplishment competition, I saw evidence of too many parents who refused to open to humanly communal childrearing, then wondered why they felt so isolated and hit with hardship and lack of support. They didn’t stop to think about the healthy bond that a normally-developing child instinctually makes with non-parental caring adults, much less how hard it is for those adults to always have to bow around the nit-picking demands of communally uncommitted and emotionally ignorant parents. It became emotionally exhausting and when I realized that I was slowly resenting the feeling of caring for these kids, I quit. It felt like my normal, nurturing, healthy adult instincts for investing in kids in my communities were being ignorantly exploited and disrespected by the godlike status of the nuclear family.

“Work is love made visible.”

I am changing my mind about work. It’s not been easy, but it’s up to me! I am among the blessed to have a good job. My only problem is my occasional fatigue, anxiety, and self-doubt left over from years of depression and some disadvantaged early experiences of frankly near-abusive work in my formative years as a teen. The problem is not the job I am lucky to have (working with kids at a beautiful private elementary school a 30-minute walk or 5-minute drive from where I live!) but rather, it is the natural challenge of staying inspired, pushing my own edges, expanding my abilities, practicing compassion for myself and others, and advocating for my readiness to grow into a greater role in the organization.

I know that whatever I do, I want to do it with vision and joy, but calling up the magic in the midst of the daily grind sometimes takes practicing tremendous grace and imagination, again and again and again. This is the real work hidden underneath the work we are paid money for. Put on new “perspecticles” when routine grinds on enchantment, or when fatigue threatens the upright mind. And let’s have compassion on ourselves: everybody feels this way sometimes, even people living their “dream job”.



“On Work”

from The Prophet

by Kahlil Gibran

You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth.
For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons,
and to step out of life’s procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission towards the infinite.

When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.
Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?

Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune.
But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth’s furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born,
And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life,
And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life’s inmost secret.

But if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon your brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written.

You have been told also that life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary.
And I say that life is indeed darkness save when there is urge,
And all urge is blind save when there is knowledge,
And all knowledge is vain save when there is work,
And all work is empty save when there is love;
And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God.

And what is it to work with love?
It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart,
even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
It is to build a house with affection,
even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy,
even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
And to know that all the blessed dead
are standing about you and watching.

Often have I heard you say, as if speaking in sleep, “He who works in marble, and finds the shape of his own soul in the stone, is nobler than he who ploughs the soil.
And he who seizes the rainbow to lay it on a cloth in the likeness of man, is more than he who makes the sandals for our feet.”
But I say, not in sleep but in the overwakefulness of noontide, that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass;
And he alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving.

Work is love made visible.
And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man’s hunger.
And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine.
And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man’s ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.