An Ode to Work - (Or Why Work Shouldn't be Odious!) By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

An Ode To Work:

Why is it the mere thought of work
goes so against the grain?
Those efforts that we make to shirk
and ailments that we feign
are unbecoming - that's for sure -
we really ought to see
how all the labours we endure
enrich humanity.
Those menial tasks we undertake
(the ones we think demean)
are often done for others' sake,
unnoticed and unseen.
Scrubbed toilets will go unadmired
by those who on them sit,
though sanitation is desired
more than a little bit.
Plants thank not when you intercede
by plucking from below
the roots of an invading weed
to give theirs' room to grow.
Few people stop to think about
the clean plates that they use.
We take for granted, without doubt,
the work we'd never choose.
Yet someone's bound to do the chore
I didn't want to do -
the messes that I might ignore
will be cleaned up by you!
The things you notice not at all
I simply must put right -
I might tend tasks that seemed so small
they never caught your sight.
It seems to me most volunteer
for tasks they tolerate,
while others that they think too drear
they'll try to delegate.
But in the end all have to cede
to work that must be done;
to pitch in when they see the need
for help from everyone.
Thus we'll move mountains, stone by stone,
if that's what is required,
and feel exhausted muscles groan
and brow become perspired.
And when the thankless task's complete
it cannot be denied
that fewer things are quite as sweet
as feeling satisfied.
So heed the moral of this verse -
there's more to life than fun.
Hard work is really not a curse
or something we should shun.

Sharon Flood Kasenberg, July 2013

When I was a child I was given chores to do. I had to clean my room and help do dishes and laundry and vacuuming. My mother sometimes asked me to help prepare meals or dust the house or tidy the basement. My grandmother sometimes asked me to walk with her to the bank or the grocery store. And I'm ashamed to say that far too often I considered these tasks to be a hardship in my life. It took me a while to understand the value of work.

When I moved away from home, my attitude toward many tasks began to change. Once I had my own apartment I developed a sense of pride in keeping it neat and tidy. Maturity began to kick in, and I learned to be grateful for being raised in a home where everyone was expected to pitch in and help. Sometimes I feel badly about how reluctant I often was to help in my youth.

When I was in my early twenties I accepted a job cleaning houses for a residential cleaning agency. I learned to really enjoy working alone, without anyone standing over me. The pay was better than any of the fast food or retail jobs I'd had before, and I found the work oddly satisfying. I arrived to a house that was messy (and sometimes pretty dirty!), but when I left everything was clean and orderly. My clients were seldom home, and when they were, they were mostly pleasant and grateful for the service I provided them. I had a few clients who were physically impaired, and a few who were senior citizens, and these people were friendly with me, and seemed especially grateful that I could attend to their homes in ways that they no longer could. Those jobs were particularly gratifying.

Once while I was thus employed I met a young man who seemed quite appalled when I told him what I did for a living. I was surprised by his attitude - I felt that my work was gratifying. It was lucrative, and it was honourable to be able to help those who needed help keeping their homes clean. I liked knowing that I could provide some of my neediest clients with clean homes and a few hours of friendly companionship while I got their place into shape. Not only was I was proud of the fact that I wasn't afraid of a bit of hard work - I actually began to feel sorry for those who thought that I was working at a "demeaning" job.

I can't tell you that I always love working, but I can tell you that I get bored pretty quickly when there isn't much work to be done. I've morphed into one of those people who can't sit and watch television or read a book all day. Too much inactivity is painful to me. I try to sit in my garden and enjoy the sun, but it gets stale really fast. I think I actually enjoy pulling weeds and trimming plants. (But please don't call me to do it for you. Don't deny yourself the character building exercise of taking care of your own patch of earth.)

Too much chaos and clutter and mess around me, especially in my own home, makes me feel irritable. Pulling the covers over my head won't just make it all disappear. I need to get off my butt and make the house clean and tidy. If you catch me when it's messy, don't implore me to leave it alone. I'm not cleaning for you - I just can't enjoy a visit without being distracted by my mess. Let me dash around for five minutes and straighten it up, okay? Oddly, if the mess is at your house it will bother me a lot less.

Watching others, who refuse my assistance, is a highly frustrating exercise for me. Let me help. If I really objected to helping you I wouldn't have made the offer. (I'm not that polite!) Likewise, I've learned the importance of accepting offers of help, even when it's a bit embarrassing. (Like when you overhear me saying bad words in the kitchen when supper preparations get out of hand. I'm not a fabulous multi-tasker, and another hand stirring a pot can really sweeten my mood.)

I've learned that some jobs will always feel like chores. I don't like cooking much, but it's my job to put supper on the table and complaining won't make it any easier or more pleasant. And because it's not my favorite task I feel especially gratified, and satisfied, when I manage to make a really nice meal. If you express appreciation for that meal, you've made my day.

Work is noble. Everyone has to eat, and I'm grateful that there are those who earn their bread working at jobs that I would find yucky. Scraping plaque off people's teeth seems disgusting to me, but I'm glad there are people who don't mind doing it. I'm glad there are people who scrub public restrooms and repair sewers and dig ditches. (For the record, I'd rather scrub toilets than be a proctologist, which proves that there are a lot of high paying and prestigious jobs that I wouldn't ever want to do.)

I admire people who take on the work of helping those in need, whether it's building houses for Habitat for Humanity or taking care of the ailing, mentally ill, or elderly. I admire the farmers who sacrifice sleep to make their living and provide food for my table. I admire professionals who worked their brains for years acquiring knowledge, and blue collar workers who work their fingers to the bone - both make my life easier through their efforts.

Work is necessary. It builds character and gives us a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. It allows us opportunities to contribute to society. Work exercises body and soul and exorcises our demons too. (Angry, annoyed, frustrated? Work it out!) Work gives us purpose.

If you're still lamenting the fact that you have to work I have one suggestion for you:

Work on that.