Labour of Love

There comes a time when we retreat to what is familiar to us. A play-list, an artist, a film or a book. My familiarity is The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. I was first introduced to Gibran at a neighbours house, after scouring her fathers eclectic and most interesting collection of books when I was fourteen or fifteen. I read it, enjoyed it, and put it back. My father then gave me this book as a Christmas present in 2007.

As usual, the first page proceeding the inside cover reads' Jol '07. Selma,
Read, Enjoy' followed by something utterly illegible and signed with 'Pabbi'.

Since 2007, I have probably read each passage of this book between 20-35 times, and it always reveals more and makes more sense - for that one moment, because it relates to how I feel or how I view the world at that very particular point in time. And as if its the first time I gaze at the book, the next time I read the various passages, it means something else and I pick up on other aspects of Gibrans writings. This, in essence, is brilliant writing and brilliant literature. When an author can write something that the audience draws from differently overtime, as they grow, mature or change (or all three:) ), you can rest assured you are privileged to be exposed to one of the greats. I will probably always return to Gibran throughout the course of my life - as my grandfather did at his recent 50th marriage anniversary party with my grandmother, where he read Gibran's passage of 'marriage'. Eloquent, beautiful, simple and true.

Now, I have recently moved to Dublin to complete my Masters studies at Trinity College Dublin. I thoroughly enjoy the student aspect of my life, and feel both grateful and privileged to carry on my studies at such a renowned and old university. HOWEVER, anyone who knows me, knows how much I enjoy working. The buzz, the stress, the post-work beers, complaining customers, good and bad bosses, inside jokes with your colleagues, the satisfaction of doing it right, making people smile and being thanked for your service by genuinely satisfied clients - as well as the evil looks (and sometimes evil words ha ha) of the displeased clients - all makes the weeks go by faster and enrich my life with (awesome) anecdotes. It is fulfilling and gives an added dimension to productivity that is different then studying and preparing for lectures. I have scoured the city of Dublin for part-time work, with no avail, and have become disillusioned. While down in the country this weekend, I re-read The Prophet and came across the passage on work (pg 25).

"Then a ploughman said, Speak to us of Work.
And he answered, saying: …..

……. Always you have been told that work is 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.

…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 mans hunger" ..
Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet,
pg25-26

Reading this gave me a great zest, I feel hopeful and energised and I am determined to join the labour market. Christmas temp, shiet hours, shiet pay, I don't care ... I will print my CV tomorrow and hopefully return home employed ;)