Unitarian Universalist Meeting of
“Doing What You Love”
Grace Note: “Lo,
the Poor Cabdriver”
Rev. Kathy Duhon
Grace Note
"Lo, the Poor
Cabdriver"
Governor Foster Furcolo, adapted by Rev. Kathy Duhon
A man was in a cab, waiting in
standstill
"Nope," said the
cabdriver, very calmly, and gestured at the lines of traffic in every
direction. "We can't go
anyplace. What's the use of getting
excited? You play golf?"
The man nodded.
"Ever get to the tee and find
two foursomes along the fairway waiting for a foursome on the green. And another foursome
waiting on the next tee?"
"Lots of times," he
answered.
"No place to go," said the
cabdriver. "Same
thing here. Nothing anyone can do
about it. Yet they all get mad and get
ulcers."
"I suppose they all have to get
someplace," the man said, looking at his watch to notify the cabdriver
that he, too, had an appointment.
"Oh, sure," agreed the
cabdriver. "That's why they're in
cabs. Everybody's got to be someplace
except the cabdriver -- he's already there.
Now look at that guy," he said, pointing to a well-dressed man who
had gotten out of his car and was talking to a police officer. "That guy is practically having a
stroke."
"He's probably late for
work," the man answered, feeling late himself.
The cabdriver said, "I'm never
late for work. I'm on time as soon as I
get in my cab."
"You seem to like being a
cabdriver," the man remarked.
"Wouldn't be anything
else," came the answer.
"Have you tried anything
else?"
The cabdriver nodded, "Lots of
things. I was in the navy, then I did
office work, and for a while I was a runner for a stockbrokerage firm. But no more of that stuff for me."
"Wouldn't you make more money
doing something else?" the rider asked.
"Oh, sure," he
agreed. "If I stayed with that
stockbroker, I might have become rich.
Who knows? But I've got no
ambition."
"Everyone should have
ambition," the man said.
"Why?'
"Why? Well, everyone should have ambition or they
won't get ahead."
"So?"
"So? Well, so they can have a nice home, good
clothes."
"I have a home and all the
clothes I need."
"Still, don't you want more
from life?"
The cabdriver said it reminded him
of a story about Lo, the poor fisherman, who went fishing everyday at the
river. Someone noticed this and asked
why that was all he ever did. Why didn't
he work? The fisherman asked why? So he could make money, the answer came, and
be able to do anything he wanted. The
fisherman said, "I'm doing what I want now."
The cabdriver said he was like Lo,
the fisherman. He said, "I'm not
going anyplace; I'm already there. I'm
not losing time or money, or anything.
Do you know when I get out of this cab?" he asked.
"No. When?"
"When I feel
like it. When I want
coffee or a bite, or I feel like going in someplace and talking to folks. I get out when I want to, not when I get to
someplace where I've got to get out because I've arrived. That got
to stuff's for the passengers, not for
me."
Then the cabdriver started
explaining how everyone likes to go for a ride in good weather, just to see
nature, or the sights. He pointed toward
the
The man arrived at his destination,
a place he didn't want to be, doing work he didn't want to do. Lo, the poor cabdriver, he thought, is doing
pretty well.
Doing What You Love
In the novel, Crossing to Safety, Wallace Stegner’s main character talks about not remembering the city he lived in during his first job. He was an overachiever and he explained, “I really never did live there, I only worked there.” This is not fiction for many people who overwork. And the opposite condition is just as bad for some folks – when they only live somewhere and never have the chance, ability or wherewithal to work there.
In the early part of the 20th century Pope Pius XI became concerned about workers in the Industrial Age. He said, “Raw materials went into the factory and came out ennobled and man went in and came out degraded.” Work can be terribly dispiriting, and we need to notice and work against this, for ourselves and for others. When our Social Justice Committee presented the worship service this summer about the living wage campaign, they were helping us to see that some workers are degraded by not being paid decently, and there is a great need to do justice work on their behalf on this and other issues. The working poor, the overachievers, the unemployed, the underemployed are in trouble when it comes to work. And there’s more.
A few years ago, columnist Ellen Goodman wrote, “For the most part, the great American philosophy is that We Work Therefore We Are. Work is identity; the workplace is our community; production equals self-worth.” What a scary observation Ellen Goodman has made. We have often taken the work ethic over the top. Seriously – over the top of the mountains, the pioneers ventured; over the top of the stratosphere, the astronauts rocketed. Our over-the-top hard productive work life has brought many material advances, much that we appreciate. We have been so driven to control our lives and our world that we have really made things happen. However, work should not dominate our identity and self-worth, and would not if work were imbued with fun, and if the other side of work, whether rest or play or being-ness, were as fully developed as the productivity side is.
How could work have aspects that are rest or play or being-ness, anyway? The 20th century minister and theologian, Howard Thurman, believed that work and rest are really “one entity”. He wrote, “When we function, we are enjoined to function wholly, bringing into the deeds the wisdom and the insight of the quiet and the pause. When we rest we are enjoined to rest wholly, bringing into the quiet time the sense of doing and participating in the activities that claim our energies.”
Another way to look at this is that we work much of the time, much of our lives, whether for a salary, or in terms of hobbies and avocations, or doing housework and yard-work, or “working off calories”, “working out puzzles”, “working on relationships”, etc. Much of the time, what we are doing in our lives is “work” in the sense of its being useful or difficult or requiring labor from our body or mind.
If we actually are working most of the hours and days of our lives, that work should certainly be more than only productive, and more, much more, than a way of identifying ourselves. Work needs to include both doing and being, whatever the job in front of us is. We are “doing” something in terms of producing or creating or solving or operating, or such, but that’s not all that happens while we are working. We also are “being” someone when we work – a kind and compassionate person, hopefully, someone who is present to the world and engaged with others, who gives oneself over to a task, who is grateful and joyful, and who loves what they are doing. Mother Ann Lee, the Shaker visionary, famously said, “Hands to work, hearts to God.” Some might say: “Work with hands and heart and mind.”
I love my work. I love what I am doing, and how I am being, for the work of ministry, my main work. Half the time, I can’t believe that you are willing to pay me for what seems to me to be pure joy. I hope for others that they are able to do what they love, to combine doing and being in their work. On the path to well-being, a simple step is to do what we love.
Speaking of doing what we love, it is the end of summer, the last of the traditional vacation time from work, and Jon and I were just at a YMCA family camp that we love, where we’ve often gone since our children were small. Most of the same families return each year to the same week, so a community forms. One family has been coming for more than 50 years, and the third generation is now entering young adulthood. The man from this family, Chris, who is a carpenter by trade, was up on the lodge roof with his son Russell, fixing the roof for a few hours during several of the days. I called up to them, saying it was awfully nice of them to work during their vacation. Chris said it was fun – both because he loves his work, and because he loves the camp and wants to give back to the community there.
Chris is not alone. Campers have organized and led musical trivia contests, stargazing, bird-watching, skits, watercolor classes, poetry slams, stretch classes, and more, including Jon’s work this past week as the organizer and caller of the first-ever contra-dance. People share their time and talents in this special camp community, and it does involve work, but they are doing what they love, because they love, for those they love. And then the work is a joy. I see that kind of spirit around here, when the work of this congregation is done by the many – a labor of love.
Doing what we love is good for our well-being and good for our immediate community, including our congregation and the places we live and work, and even vacation. What about the world? How does our work affect the soul of the world, the beloved community? One of my favorite quotes comes from theologian Frederick Buechner, who wrote that your calling “is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” So what you love to do will be what the world needs most – there is an interdependence between the two, an intersection. Of course, love for doing something, deep gladness, does not mean it is all easy – often our work is a struggle, a sacrifice. I know. As much as I love my work as a minister, sometimes it is crystal clear to me why ministry is a paid profession.
All
of our congregation’s work meets the world’s deep hunger in some way, but we
have a special opportunity coming up that widens our horizons. I am very excited and hopeful about our
upcoming October trip to
This Labor Day I bid you to reflect upon your work, and not just what you do for pay, but work like changing diapers and doing dishes and the fall clean-up of the yard; work like bringing hospitality and helping a campaign and painting a fall scene; work where you sweat and grunt and strain your brain. When you consider your work, how does it feel? Does it dominate your identity? Do you mindfully engage in both doing and being while you work? Do you rest? How is your work meeting the world’s deep hunger, and how is it bringing you deep gladness? Are you doing what you love? I hope so. May your work a blessing be. Amen.