Work or Play?

The masters in the art of living make little distinction between their work and their play, their labor and their leisure, their minds and their bodies, their education and their recreation, their love and their religion.  They hardly know which is which.  They simply pursue their vision of excellence in whatever they do, leaving others to decide whether they are working or playing.  To them they are always doing both.    -Zen Buddhist text


We like to classify things, don't we?  We like to give things names, put them into categories, group them, and define them.  We've been taught since we were very young that this is necessary for us somehow, that this is an effective way of approaching life.  I believe that we see this tendency of ours as an effective way of controlling things, and of controlling our minds.  After all, if I have something that I don't know what to do with, that can be frustrating and stressful.  Is this an A or a B?  Does it belong in this group or in that group?  Is it for Tuesdays or Wednesdays?  It gives us a sense of comfort to be in control, to know how something is defined, exactly what it's used for, and exactly how to explain it to others.

But what does that do to potential?  Once I define something as "play" or "recreation," then it doesn't belong in the workplace, does it?  Once I define something as "work," then I'm going to avoid doing it at home, even if I enjoy it.  We're taught not just to categorize, but to build walls between categories so that the things that we consider to be of one category won't interfere with what we consider to be of another category.

Of course, this is often a useful tendency.  I'm often somewhat shocked to see some of the things that some teachers do in classrooms that are very clearly simply entertainment, and that have practically no pedagogical value at all.  I've taught students in language classes, for example, who spent tons of time in previous classes watching movies and playing video games--and who haven't learned what they need to know for this new language class.  And they're often in classes with students who had teachers who taught an awful lot, and who have a very strong base in the language.  Guess who does well in the class?  I find myself feeling awful for the students who watched a lot of films, and wishing that their teachers understood better the need to use the class time actually teaching and modeling and answering questions rather than simply pressing "play."

Looking at that example of an extreme, we can see one reason for which we do separate things.  Do I really want to take my car to a mechanic who spends all their time watching videos on social media, even while working?  Obviously not--there needs to be separation.  But that's not what this passage is talking about.  Would I prefer to take my car to a mechanic who sees his job as a necessary drudgery that he performs so that he can pay bills, or to someone who loves his job so much that he can't wait to come into work so that he can problem-solve, fix things, and improve things?  If his job is intellectually stimulating to him, and if he enjoys it, then he's found a great gift--work that he enjoys doing.

But what if all of us can find such a way of looking at the work that we're already doing?  What if there's a lot of enjoyment to be found in the jobs we have, but we just haven't looked for it yet because we've categorized it as "work," and we just know that there isn't anything enjoyable to be found there?

This does actually happen to me sometimes, depending on the school I'm teaching at.  Sometimes the stress just builds and builds until I even dread going to work each day.  I do my best to work my way out of such feelings, but they do arise at times, and they're difficult to deal with.  I have to remind myself that I have the privilege of working with young people who are in the process of learning what they can about life, living, and education.  And in my own very small way, I have an opportunity to contribute to their education, to help them to learn how to learn, to help them to understand some of the choices and dilemmas that they're going to be facing as they move into adulthood.

But the most important thing I can do is keep in mind that working with these young people can actually be fun--and that my journey to school each morning isn't a trip that ends in misery for eight hours or so, but a way to get to a place where I enjoy myself while helping young people to learn things that may help them later in life.  And it's up to me if I see it as fun or if I see it as a tedious and annoying chore--and I much prefer to see it as fun.

So my goal is to pursue excellence with the kids I work with, and to try to help them to learn, and to enjoy their company.  And when I think about it in the right way, I understand that my ability to go work with these young people every day is a privilege that I'm very fortunate to have, and that whether I enjoy the experience or not is completely up to me.  Is my job a joyful part of my life, or a dreary and drab and tedious annoyance?  It's so very true that the answer to that question is completely up to me, and the way that I answer it can strongly affect my happiness and my fulfillment in life.