My daughter and I are both suffering from a head cold today due to a sudden drop in temperatures over the past weekend. I've been conditioned to feel guilty about calling in to work (by my parents, my teachers, my bosses and societal norms) unless I'm deathly ill and/or would further contaminate my coworkers. Suffering this guilt is considered to be part of a good "Work Ethic". I have a very good work ethic.
Ever since our country was first settled by religious Puritans, working hard has been considered an opportunity to prove our moral worth. That attitude has survived to this day. People who show up on time, work dilligently and at a fast pace are considered to be righteous and good. People who are late, call in sick or work at a slower than average pace are considered, in today's vernacular, "slackers". I recognize that moral fear in myself, albeit less and less as I grow older and begin to question the fruits of my labors. I've already put twenty-two years of manual labor into this society in one form or another and have very little to show for it. At what point may I rest my weary back, well-worn joints and weathered skin to excercise my other faculties? I'd much rather strain my brain instead of my back for the next two decades. Is writing in my Blog morally righteous work, or the mental masturbation of a blue-collar slacker who's having fantasies above his station?
Aristotle, arguably one of the greatest minds in Ancient Greece, felt that the only life befitting a free man was one of leisure. Of course, that probably assumed that "free-man" had slaves to do his bidding while he was steeped in speculation about loftier ideas. But he also believed, out of fashion for his time, that learning,..' is a natural pleasure, not confined to philosophers, but common to all men.' For my own mental health and sense of self-worth, I have to believe that. I write because I'm compelled by a natural pleasure. True, I don't have letters bestowed upon me by the establishment that proclaims my right to a certain "degree" of respect (economic barries and other circumstances saw to that failure), but I do love to learn about myself, others and the world around me.
Apparently my little girl does too. She's done playing with her harmonica now and she wants me to help her with an as-yet unopened science kit. So it's time to put the blog away and discover the wonderful world of creating polymers out of paper-glue, Borax, water and liquid starch. Slime awaits a sick slacker.
-Sudrakarma
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