Our Work

I want to share part of a poem by Mary Oliver that I recently read and spoke to me. The poem's title is "Messenger."

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird--
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished...

How different the world would be if we had this attitude and understood our work as loving the world and standing still and learning to be astonished.