At the place I work, there is a special place with walls that harmonize in quietude and peace. Rich with tranquil pageantry. The king's throne room.
I walked into work for the first time after four years of wondering what my purpose in life would be. Would be? And in all that wondering of what would be, I failed to see the purpose my life already held in those singular and irreplaceable present moments. Imagine! Four years of present moments gone by at a clip. They were four years of no real routine. Of those four years, the last two were the least routine, yet all the same and filled with adventure. Only sometimes, I failed to see the adventure in the challenge of being charged with caring for a man and woman who are a source of blessing and inspiration in the precious present moments of my past and even now.
But I digress. Back on topic, at this place, there are many cubicles and fancy offices, hallways, a lunch room and typical office traffic. The place has a unique character because undoubtedly you would encounter priests, deacons, a bishop, consecrated women, devoted lay persons, but it is not about them that I write. The one and ones I write about are the master of the manor and all the uncomplicated workers enduring their complicated lives. They are mostly silent about their worries. They come to work. They work hard. They worry for such few dollars they receive, and yet they faithfully fulfill their tasks. Perhaps these days, these uncomplicated ones are overcast a bit with a sense of unease about the future, their future. I sense: "Overcast skies ahead." But they still come to work and bless this special place with laughter, coffee grins, a word of kindness for the new kid on the block. How can I be too happy when I sense these clouds and even tension's gloom? But perhaps that is what is needed, sunshine's ray of hope, a future breaking forth from a chrysalis of the problems of the "now."
I have "set my face like flint." I am heartened recalling the Psalms words: "My heart is ready, Lord, My heart is ready." The calling here and in the now is service. "Well," you say, "that's the calling for a government job, or career, or a non profit non governmental agency driven by some cause." The difference of this place, this here, this now, is that this "not for profit non governmental agency" represents the quiet man in the room of rich and quiet pageantry. I find it uncommonly rewarding to work in the building with him there.
I walked into work for the first time in four years this morning. It was magnificent to be able to see him. Just him and me. Face time with the boss of bosses. His welcome was only simple as the sunshine streamed through the window and the workmen worked the backhoe and set in motion transformations of a more practical kind. Beyond the window pane, I could see the movement of the mulberry tree limbs. I could almost feel the wispy crispy movement of the elm tree leaves. The master was indeed saying in his quiet way, "See how I welcome you? With color, vibrancy, with sound, economy of movement, with your own industry, with the 'ganas' (Spanish colloquial for enthusiasm)" This boss only uses words when it is necessary. His message surrounds me with a brilliance and aroma. He welcomed me this morning waking me to sweet aromatherapy of the coffee, fresh ground rich, His very presence.
You ask, "Huh? Where is he going with all this vaguery?" Well you must understand, the boss I work for now is not just any boss. In many ways, he's less like any CEO I've ever met and more like those uncomplicated souls that roam untitled, and unimportant in their own minds. I want to be like them as these little ones move like poetry amid the prose of life. They are the ones who clean and sweep and smile, and clean and sweep some more. They are the face that greets and redirects a visitor. They are the smile behind the desk who types the letter, and takes the tension out of being lost in the confines of offices and labyrinths with walls that cannot speak. They reflect the one in the throne room. The boss who welcomed me this morning. It is a miraculous room with walls that speak of him and his humility and simplicity, speaking walls and singing windows through which a color wheel of life is framed, an energy of being. And at its heart is a tiny little place, a little door, a burning candle, whisping flame-tip, hot with peace, hot with creativity, hot with hope. It is here where faith is born breaking out the chrysalis of hope, a butterfly is born.
These are my poetic recollections after my first day at work. Can't wait . Come tomorrow! I think I'll dream before awakening. He visits me even in my dreams. I think I'll visit him again tomorrow.
I walked into work for the first time after four years of wondering what my purpose in life would be. Would be? And in all that wondering of what would be, I failed to see the purpose my life already held in those singular and irreplaceable present moments. Imagine! Four years of present moments gone by at a clip. They were four years of no real routine. Of those four years, the last two were the least routine, yet all the same and filled with adventure. Only sometimes, I failed to see the adventure in the challenge of being charged with caring for a man and woman who are a source of blessing and inspiration in the precious present moments of my past and even now.
But I digress. Back on topic, at this place, there are many cubicles and fancy offices, hallways, a lunch room and typical office traffic. The place has a unique character because undoubtedly you would encounter priests, deacons, a bishop, consecrated women, devoted lay persons, but it is not about them that I write. The one and ones I write about are the master of the manor and all the uncomplicated workers enduring their complicated lives. They are mostly silent about their worries. They come to work. They work hard. They worry for such few dollars they receive, and yet they faithfully fulfill their tasks. Perhaps these days, these uncomplicated ones are overcast a bit with a sense of unease about the future, their future. I sense: "Overcast skies ahead." But they still come to work and bless this special place with laughter, coffee grins, a word of kindness for the new kid on the block. How can I be too happy when I sense these clouds and even tension's gloom? But perhaps that is what is needed, sunshine's ray of hope, a future breaking forth from a chrysalis of the problems of the "now."
I have "set my face like flint." I am heartened recalling the Psalms words: "My heart is ready, Lord, My heart is ready." The calling here and in the now is service. "Well," you say, "that's the calling for a government job, or career, or a non profit non governmental agency driven by some cause." The difference of this place, this here, this now, is that this "not for profit non governmental agency" represents the quiet man in the room of rich and quiet pageantry. I find it uncommonly rewarding to work in the building with him there.
I walked into work for the first time in four years this morning. It was magnificent to be able to see him. Just him and me. Face time with the boss of bosses. His welcome was only simple as the sunshine streamed through the window and the workmen worked the backhoe and set in motion transformations of a more practical kind. Beyond the window pane, I could see the movement of the mulberry tree limbs. I could almost feel the wispy crispy movement of the elm tree leaves. The master was indeed saying in his quiet way, "See how I welcome you? With color, vibrancy, with sound, economy of movement, with your own industry, with the 'ganas' (Spanish colloquial for enthusiasm)" This boss only uses words when it is necessary. His message surrounds me with a brilliance and aroma. He welcomed me this morning waking me to sweet aromatherapy of the coffee, fresh ground rich, His very presence.
You ask, "Huh? Where is he going with all this vaguery?" Well you must understand, the boss I work for now is not just any boss. In many ways, he's less like any CEO I've ever met and more like those uncomplicated souls that roam untitled, and unimportant in their own minds. I want to be like them as these little ones move like poetry amid the prose of life. They are the ones who clean and sweep and smile, and clean and sweep some more. They are the face that greets and redirects a visitor. They are the smile behind the desk who types the letter, and takes the tension out of being lost in the confines of offices and labyrinths with walls that cannot speak. They reflect the one in the throne room. The boss who welcomed me this morning. It is a miraculous room with walls that speak of him and his humility and simplicity, speaking walls and singing windows through which a color wheel of life is framed, an energy of being. And at its heart is a tiny little place, a little door, a burning candle, whisping flame-tip, hot with peace, hot with creativity, hot with hope. It is here where faith is born breaking out the chrysalis of hope, a butterfly is born.
These are my poetic recollections after my first day at work. Can't wait . Come tomorrow! I think I'll dream before awakening. He visits me even in my dreams. I think I'll visit him again tomorrow.
Thank you to those who have read this blog. I am only commenting as a means of supplementing the piece in order to say: Second day at work. Just like the first. Looking forward to my third day and what newness it will bring. Blessed be God.
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