Serious Silliness

Wander around the jungle of human affairs and pay tribute to those who have discovered a craft they truly adore. There are often two varieties and no options inbetween this black and white fork in distinction. Some are born with innate talents and predilictions which lean them off balance towards the inevitable fulfilment of some type of work which satisfies their itch. There are oh so few of these sort, arising from the sheer mass of humanity like cream that floats to the top of your afternoon latte. The more common type are those who step into some random and arbitrary lineup which leads them to become a business man, doctor, engineer or carpenter.

To excel at their profession and lead, so to speak, the rat-race of competition, they find it necessary to absorb themselves as fully as possible into the details of what it is that they do. As it is often put, one must eat, breathe and absolutely soak themselves into their craft so that it incessantly twirls thoughts in their mind and offers them no peace to be anything short of a ‘workaholic’. In short, success for the average variety of men in this world is to absorb and identify their identity through and through to the arbitrary work to which they find themselves suited.

Yet success in this fashion is failure in another; for while the ordinary find it necessary to become attached to their work in order to be good at it, it costs them dearly from the point of view of their individuality. A man is not what he wears or does, nor is his worth equivalent to the sum total of the pricetags of his education, income, vehicle and home. These artificial denominations are furnished by peddling merchants above stories of buildings, smiling away as men of this world believe they can purchase their value and dignity off the shelf of branded vanity.

The only measurements that mean anything in this coiled reality are those other than the ones dictated from above the hierarchy of currency. They need not be mentioned, for most of them are self-apparent and quite obvious by the moral of the stories we read, hear and watch from the lens of the cinema. What must be stated with a fierce tone of warning is that the more one identifies their personalities and name by the profession they happen to find themselves in, the more of a slave they are to the pety shifts of sand which the events of life continually bear.

A quintessential quality to which we must all swear allegiance is that of not taking ourselves seriously. It is by far the most important character trait to find in a man in these days of most serious silliness. We must do what we have to in order to put bread on the table and foster prosperity for our family, but always with a sense of identity which is quite separate from the duties of toil. Should someone find a talent or passion that they hold intimately dear, then let them do it, again, with this sense of detachment and note the quality which is reaped when this needless ferment of excitement is removed from the equation.


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