The day I conquered manual labor

Some figure it out sooner in life while others never do. Those who embrace it generally do while those who resist it do not. What I’m talking about is work - as in our job or career - that consumes, on average, one-third of our adult lives.

My earliest job was picking tomatoes but that was more a youthful cultural experience. I wrote about this experience around one year ago when sharing an episode from many moons ago when coaching a younger cousin; you can read about it here: You can always pick tomatoes

My later jobs included a pre-teenage stint helping my Dad when he owned a commercial janitorial business and, as a teenager, working as a busboy, dishwasher and food server for restaurants. The money I earned from the janitor assistant job was used to purchase an electric guitar while the restaurant jobs provided economic fuel to buy my first car, gasoline to make it go, and spending chump change for my discretionary teenage activities.

None of these play work experiences, however, prepared me for the three years I spent in the U.S. Army, my first experience of full-time work as a soldier and its Monday through Friday, day in and day out “manual labor” grind. Even though I had an easy military occupation working in a personnel office, these experiences were my introduction to the yin and yang of resisting “manual labor”, and provided many valuable lessons about the role of work in my life.

And what is that role? In my opinion, it’s that work is a natural component of a balanced and healthy life, just like breathing, eating, exercising, praying, sleeping, and socializing. It should be an enjoyable component of my life as any other and, if that's not the case, then something isn’t right and needs to be corrected to achieve a balance and harmony that's lacking.

So whether we are a big shot CEO of a Fortune 500 company, a high-priced attorney making the big money chasing ambulances, a hospital emergency room physician saving lives, a gardener raking leaves, a manual laborer digging ditches, or an unpaid volunteer doing charitable works, it’s all the same in that we grind away doing our thing to bring home the bacon. At times it feels as demanding like manual labor, exhausts us, makes us want to run away, or resist the perpetual challenge of accepting and embracing work as a necessary part our lives.

It’s my belief that it takes at least 10 years to conquer these "demons" and first enter the positive paradigm about the role of work. I remember when I did – the day I conquered manual labor.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum