Work gets in the way of life. It physically binds me from spending quality time with my son on a daily basis, and sucks precious, irretrievable time away from my writing and my art. What an odd concept to be brought into a world, into a society, to work for other people, for what seems an eternity, and pay the government a part of what we make and then struggle to make ends meet. What part of this makes sense? I say no part of it makes sense. Why aren't we brought into the world, into societies that allow us to live life, barter for and grow what we need to survive, and get along with our neighbors. Just to tend to small daily chores only necessary for survival and be blessed with the rest of the time to fulfill our every need, be it emotional, physical or spiritual. The older I get, the more I realize how much time has literally been wasted in getting up early, going to a job (that unfortunately I don't love) and working all day to pay for things I keep in a home that I
CERTIFIED LIFE AND WELLNESS COACH, PROFESSIONAL ORGANIZER, PHOTOGRAPHER, POET, WRITER, SAPPHIC SISTER AND AVID SEEKER OF ART AND ALL THINGS UNIQUE, POSITIVE AND BEAUTIFUL IN THIS WORLD.
Subscribe to this blog