For some, the work itself is life’s joy and purpose.

For some, work is what enables joy and purpose in other arenas. It enables survival.

Both can be healthy paths.

The trouble comes when the work is not fulfilling--but then through habit becomes mistaken for what life is about. The original ideals become distant. Children are forgotten, their material needs met, but little else. Love is lost. It’s all about showing up at work. Value of self becomes wrapped up in how many extra hours are worked, how big the paycheck, what has been purchased. How necessary the pain of work is. The material self becomes disdainful about the spiritual, about ideals and ethics. Joy? A naive fantasy for the simple-minded.

Maybe we become confused. I know I am--both welcoming and dreading being plugged into the work force.

We forget our priorities--it’s as simple as that.