I love this view of Dry Canyon, looking at the near of greened Spring through to the snowy far of the Wasatch mountain. I love images that invoke right here and the longer arc.
When it comes to views near and far, I grew up in a family system in which “job” was an important reference point. Shared responsibility was important. Everyone had a “job,” adults through to kids.
On Thanksgiving weekend, one of our jobs was washing and waxing the cars to get them ready for a Canadian winter. My grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, sister, cousins and a few friends would work together, and then play together. My job as a kid was cleaning and shining the chrome on the hubcaps and the bumpers using an SOS pad, elbow grease, and some shining wax.
I grew up in a family that valued work and valued work together. We used the language of “job” in description, in offers, and as a form of love.
So, “job” lives with me. It tends to ground what I hold in my brain and in my heart. Sometimes, I find it helpful to return from very complex things to the simplicity of job. My years of living have helped me to understand different layers of jobs. It’s not all hubcaps. It’s not all doing the dishes. There is also an interior world for each of us that also needs tending, that needs the loving attention of “job.”
With these thoughts accompanying me, I recently prosed a bit about the job of tending to the present moment. Remembering those car-washing weekends, the satisfaction of doing and going. But also claiming the importance of the job of being and participating in an inherent mystery.
that it is my job
to live in to mystery.
To wake up
and greet what arrives.
attentive to what arises.
To connect and learn
that I am with.
in ways that point to
more harmony and more kindness,
that point to more consciousness
and more flow with life.
that my job
is inner as much as outer,
but it does not exclude the outer.
The dishes matter.
that my job
includes presence in this moment
that connects to a much longer
but perhaps quite purposeful arc.
opens my feeling,
which also turns out to be my job.