The Work

Even as a “successful” career-man, earning a good salary, being intellectually challenged, and working with smart, kind, patient colleagues, I have this ambiguous feeling in my heart. I often feel like the motions I’m going through during the day don’t have a lot of meaning for me. 

Sometimes I grasp for some different situation. I sporadically apply for a different job, or buy some piece of equipment or art supply as if that will transport me into a different state of being, one where I’m more content or in flow. 

I’m wishing for a different outcome rather than indulging in the process. I already read the bad news; I know the process isn’t always indulgent. It’s not always a chocolate sundae. 

Then I think about when the karate kid first starting to work with Mr. Miyagi. “Wax on. wax off.” He almost quit because he wanted to do karate not take care of Mr. Miyagi’s car collection. He only learned later that he was practicing karate all along. I feel the same way about work sometimes. 

I think there are two lessons here. The first is that the practice may not always feel like the path. Sometimes it feels like a waste of time. Or like no progress is being made. We may ask ourselves in exasperation, “is this the work?” I think more often than not it is. The obstacle is the way. Not everything is as it seems.

The second lesson is to find the practice. Like a good teacher, Mr. Miyagi keeps the karate kid in the yoga flow, wax on wax off. We can be our own teachers by gently and kindly redirecting our hand when we get off track. But we need to define the activity. What is the boundary of our wax on wax off? For yogis it is the breath. For pianists it is fingers on keys. For writers, words on the page. Runners it’s the stride. Whatever it is, finding the motion for true self-expression brings us one step closer to channeling the divine.