Feel the love expand.

Imagine a world where everyone in it loves what they do. That may be an unrealistic expectation. Some jobs are a means to an end. Some are a stepping-stone to something greater.

Granted, we’re not all impacted if the science teacher at the local public school hates her job, but the kids are, much like the English teacher who loves her job impacts them in a very positive way. Many of them will grow to love literature and many of them will think of her often as they move through life. The English teacher makes dinner time discussion often and inspires the Mom to go back to school, which leads to a better career, which benefits the child later in life when she wants to go Harvard. Love expands, hate contracts.

There are industries that should have check points to ensure people love what they do. In hospitals, the staff should be driven to help people and families through a time of crisis in the most loving and compassionate way. In government, elected officials should live and breathe making the best possible decisions for their constituents – and make them with love and compassion. None of us should be satisfied until we reach this state in public affairs. We all deserve better.

I can’t say I’ve always loved what I’ve had to do for a living. I’ve had to sing Madonna & Bronski Beat. I’ve been in an 80s dance band misbooked into a biker bar in northern New Brunswick. I think we had it figured out about around sound check time and the owner made us go on anyhow – it was salmon fest season, he wasn’t going to be without a band. I saw bikers line dance that night, and I had a blast. I’ve served more than my share of crab cakes over the years. I’ve worked for approximately .50 cents an hour in theatre and I’ve been paid $300 to open a bottle of wine. What I can say for sure is that for the majority of my working days I have found the passion to do it and when I couldn’t muster it up anymore, I moved on.

Imagine a world where every interaction demonstrated pride.
Feel the love expand.

 


Photo Credit ~ Sylvia Armstrong

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