Translator: Ross Edwards
Reviewer: David DeRuwe I'll start with my personal relationship to work since I'm going
to talk about work today. I've been working, officially,
in the area I like, my profession - writing, in its different forms - since the age of 18. I say officially, because I think
I was working before that too when I wrote magazines for fun as a boy. I rented them out: they were handmade,
and there was only one copy of each. I rented them to classmates
and friends in the neighbourhood. I rented them out for a day, and with the money they paid me,
maybe one peso in today's money, I put the coins together and bought ink and paper
and made more magazines. So I've worked for as long as I remember. I've worked in companies
and organisations. I've worked self-employed. I've listened to many coworkers
who've worked alongside me, colleagues. I see what the world of work is like. I see it up close, and it interests me
because human connection interests me, because human mess-ups interest me, because what happens to us interests me. And work takes up,
in the most hardworking cases, in the most organised cases and in the most legal cases, a third of our adult life. Paid work, eight
of the 24 hours in each day. If we sleep, if we get a good sleep,
another eight hours. Meaning that work
takes up practically half of our conscious, waking hours. Imagine we asked someone
the question 'Why do you work?' The automatic, immediate,
built-in response from all of us who work for a salary, for an income, for a fee, the response that would come
to us, almost without thinking, would be: 'to make a living.' For a second, let's stay
on the topic of life. A German poet called Novalis said something that always stayed with me. 'Life', Novalis said, 'is nothing
in and of itself'. Really it's an opportunity for something. If I work just to make a living, then I'd do that so that my life
were an opportunity, but for what? Because if we go no further than 'I work just to lead a pleasant life,
a relatively comfortable life, where I don't need
to be constantly chasing after the things that cover my needs,' then maybe it'd have been easier, quicker and more direct to have been born a cat, spending the day in an armchair, knowing that every time I feel hungry,
there will be pellets or whatever it is. And I wouldn't ask myself
the questions human beings do. Straight away, my life
would be assured in advance. But it turns out that we work
and work and work to make a living. We all work. Even lazy people work, they need to work
enormously so that they're not given work. It takes a lot of time,
a lot of creativity, being lazy. So we're always working. It's not only the ones
who work for an income who work. A grandmother works when she makes a pie, turning a series of ingredients,
just loose ingredients by themselves, into a pie that her grandchildren
think is the best in the universe. That grandmother transformed something. There was work in that transformation. And what was transformed
ceased to be what it was to become something else. Doctors work when they change a condition
of pain or illness into health. An engineer works to build a bridge that connects two cities. The cities have a lot to offer each other, but couldn't do so
because they were isolated. A therapist works when they listen
to the pain or the problems of people who come to them, and they help those people to transform
that into a different view of life. We all work - even street sweepers, who convert a square's disorder and dirt into a place, into a space
fit for walking around, taking the kids, sitting and talking, and for drinking tea. We all work, and in human life,
work means transformation. To work means to transform. Of course, you could say: 'But there are many
other creatures that do that.' Bees make honey: they work. Beavers make damns: they work. Ovenbirds make nests: they work. Ants make roads,
extraordinary roads: they work. But I've never heard of any bees that had a midlife crisis
halfway through their life and said: 'I would have loved to make
nests my entire life, but since my mum and dad were bees,
I couldn't let them down. And in the end I did this,
but it's not what I wanted.' I've also not heard of any beavers
that wanted to make honey. Why not? The lives of other creatures
that work are predetermined. They're born knowing what they want,
they'll do it their whole life - it's part of biological programming. We don't know what we're going to do. And sometimes it takes us
over half a lifetime to know what we're going to do. That doesn't mean
we do nothing in the meantime. Why not? Because there's something
related to work called a vocation. A vocation isn't necessarily
a liking for a career or a knack for a discipline. Vocation means calling. It's a word that comes
from the Latin 'vocatio', which means calling. It's not from the outside. It's not my parents' calling,
wanting me to be a doctor. It's not society's calling,
expecting me to become this or that. It's not the government's calling, which says 'more doctors are needed,
therefore we expect you to become one.' No. It comes from within. And it's linked to a search
that's inside us all, whether we know it or not -
the search for the meaning of our life. There are 7 billion people living
on the planet today, all of us different. Because of that,
there are no random lives. And if we're all different,
and if we've always been different, that means that in every life,
there's a meaning. It's not a meaning we construct,
it's a meaning we discover. Bit by bit, we can discover the meaning of our life
if we look in different places. One place is the feelings and values
we have and how we apply them. Another is the connections we create - how those connections
give us contact with others and knowing that what we do
arrives to somebody, the confirmation of our own existence
that we receive from someone. Sometimes there is meaning in pain, in suffering that, at first,
might seem absurd. And a big source of meaning is work: as long as we are able
to understand our work as something we do in the world, taking nourishment
from the world and for it. There's an old tale
that many of you probably know. It's about three bricklayers
who were working. As they did their bricklaying, they were asked
what it was they were doing. One of them said: 'I put one brick next to the other. That's what I do every day
during my eight working hours.' Another said: 'I'm building a wall.' They're doing the same thing. 'That's what I do.' And the third one said:
'I'm building a cathedral.' They're doing the same thing. There's one that only sees the bricks, there's one who only sees the wall and there's one who sees
the purpose of their work, understanding that what they're doing
is part of a bigger thing that will last. Because work takes on meaning when the transformation we make is transformation
for the betterment of the world and leaves a print on the world. Of course, there are jobs,
and there are jobs, because drug traffickers work, and they work a lot too,
probably more than eight hours a day. Arms manufacturers and traffickers work. White slavers work. Some jobs improve the world;
some jobs make it worse. This leads us to the link
between work and values, between work and morals, and to an important question: Beyond what we're doing, does what we're doing include
the values that we believe in? Because human beings' values - moral values, the values that make
it possible for us improve the world - really exist when we live them,
not when we speak about them. You can talk a lot about values, but living them is what's important,
and living them where? In the place we live 24 hours
of every day of our life, and remember that,
if we're hard little workers, we work for eight hours, at least. So you can't have some values for life
and other values for work. When we align our life values
and our work values, we also begin to see
the meaning of our work. And this is independent of the job we do because some of us might do
the same thing our entire life. Because we like it, because in it
we have found meaning, a kind of fulfilment. And others don't do
the same thing their entire life, but over time they find
fulfilment in jobs that are different. And at some point during this work, they're able to find a flash of meaning,
a moment of fulfilment, a piece of work where meaning appears. So the important thing is that values
are constantly present, at all times. If they aren't, we'd find
ourselves stuck in a job that slowly loses meaning for us. This also leads to another question: When we work, are we what we do,
or do we do what we are? If we are what we do, we find the doctor who, when asked
what their job is, says: 'I am a doctor' and the employee who says:
'I am an employee' and the salesman who says:
'I am a salesman.' And nobody is a doctor,
a salesman or an employee. In life you do the job of a doctor,
of a salesman or an employee. It's a role in life. Because if I'm a doctor, I'm nothing
if one day I can't practice medicine. If I turn the job I do into my identity, then I'll need to do it
under all conditions, even the worst, even though I don't like it,
because if I'm not that, I'm nothing. Even if I'm exploited, I suffer,
and I don't see why, I do it because if I don't do it, I'm nothing. But if, instead of being
what I do, I do what I am, I can have different jobs throughout life,
including some that I don't like. I can do a job for a while
which I don't like at all, which isn't what I'd have chosen. But if I do what I am, I'll put into it my values,
my feelings, my way of seeing others, as an end or a means, and whatever I do, I'll be present and I'll transform
the world with that focus, which makes me unique
among 7 billion people. So, what does work offer us? Whatever work we do
because we're constantly working. If I asked you, for example, what would you do if you didn't do
what you're doing now to make a living? If you already had enough money,
what would you do? Some would say 'nothing',
many people would say 'nothing'. But probably, after five minutes
of doing nothing you'd get bored, and after 10 minutes you'd be anxious, and after 11 you'd start something,
you'd look for something to do, and that thing is then your job. Even if it may be disguised as a hobby, but something, you'd grab
something, do something and transform one situation into another,
transform one thing into another, because we need to work. Human beings arrive in the world, we receive the world and we receive
it with one condition, or two: one is to transform it, the other
is to transform it for the better. I'd even add a third: that in that transformation,
we find the meaning of our life. This is applicable - I say this based
on my own life experience - to any job that we may be doing. There's no excuse. Because as somebody once said: 'If you're not doing what you enjoy,
try to enjoy what you're doing'. Not because you have to,
not out of obligation, but because you are here,
your life is unfolding here. An important part of your life
and your relationships is unfolding here. So, in that, try to bring
out your values, your creativity, the things you have to give to the world. And I'd like to bring these reflections
to a close, if it's okay, by reading a Celtic blessing to you. It talks about work. It's very old. It has endured through time,
people and work, and it goes like this: 'May you see the beauty
of your soul in what you do. May your work bring light, health
and renewal to those who work, to those who work with you
and to those who see and receive you work. May your work never tire you. May it free springs of renewal,
inspiration and excitement within you. May you be present in what you do. May the day never bring you down. May sunrise find you
waiting for the new day with dreams, possibilities and promises. May the night find you fulfilled
and in a state of appreciation. May your work serenade your soul,
console it and renew it'. Whatever we do, whether it's paid or not, this possibility is open to us. We're at once transformative
and productive beings. Thank you very much.
