“Housework sucks!” wrote a young friend of my granddaughter, on her Facebook status.
This prompted a plethora of thoughts about how dreadfully we must have failed this generation, especially in the area of appreciating the opportunity to work.
How many times I have been served by a kid who didn’t want to be there, worked only for money and couldn’t wait for his hours to be over!
Housework doesn’t pay–at least not with immediate monetary reward–yet it must be done. Like other mundane tasks, the reward is in knowing it is a job well done.
One of my stepdaughters explained to me how she detested housework and put it off until it was a huge chore. “If I wash dishes, we just dirty them up again,” she complained. “We mess the bed up every day. Laundry is never caught up for more than a few hours.” She wanted to know why my attitude was different.
At a loss for words because I’d never thought about this before, I finally managed, “It makes me feel good.” That didn’t communicate with her so I tried again.
“I look at the clean house, the finished product, and it makes me feel good. When things are messy or dirty or undone, I don’t feel good. I take a few seconds to admire the folded laundry or the clean floor. Sometimes that’s all we get–that few seconds!”
I think this principle is applicable to the work spent in writing. Every writer wants the affirmation of publication. Yet, if I wrote solely for the sake of dollars earned, I’d never write poetry because it doesn’t pay well, and I’d be a very frustrated author because most of what I write isn’t publishable, never mind payable. It’s a labor of love.