Oh. I know the big problem with everything. Work.
Some people—maybe most people now—think work is a chore. Or a burden. Or a curse.
Work is the product of your heart and mind. And sex.
Work is your fruit. And it sustains you. And you would enjoy it. I do.
Somehow we have forgotten that. Somehow we have lost joy in labor.
Now we want this or that to play with. Or we want what someone else has. And we don’t want to work.
We are practicing politics or gangsterism. Or any number of kinds of cutting down others; for some gain. Or just their loss.
What we have forgotten is the magic of our emanation. We have forgotten the magic of our own will. Our own hands. And all the magic that comes from it.
We actually think and feel work is bad. Instead of glow in our own work. Instead of the glory of our own work. As local or global as it is. I think that is the crux of everything.
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