Job Or Lifeworks?

Written by Judi Singleton

Job or life work "Your employer may dictate every aspect of your work life, but no

matter what kind of job you do, you arerepparttar boss of your inner life."

We spendrepparttar 132406 largest portions of our lives at work or sleeping. So more and more people are demanding that there is no division between who they are at home and at work. No longer can people say I go to this

job to earn a living and I come home and I am a spiritual being. Bringingrepparttar 132407 Higher Power into ordinary life is more important than it

ever has been. People can no longer divide themselves up and say I am

this here and that there. Let us look for a moment at job addiction. Matthew Fox has recently

written a fine book on work, The Reinvention of Work. He indicates that

the difference between work and job addiction revolves around whether

the burdens that accompany our work are greater or lesser thanrepparttar 132408 joy

that results from it. Fox then specifies three soul qualities that

comprise joy in work; delight, creativity, and transformation. Job

addiction lacks these three qualities.

Since work is such an important element of our lives that means that we

are supposed to find joy in our work as well. A business that is

operated in awareness of universal principles is first acknowledgesrepparttar 132409

inseparability ofrepparttar 132410 cosmic andrepparttar 132411 material aspects of life. It

integratesrepparttar 132412 two. It is cognizant ofrepparttar 132413 truth that there is no

scarcity and thus no need for cut throat competition. It seesrepparttar 132414 value

in cooperation over competition. Ask yourself some questions: What in your life brings you joy? Do you like to work alone or with others? What kind of rewards do you need to feel your work is well done? Will a change of attitude about work changerepparttar 132415 way you feel about your work? Will it take a change of work entirely to bring you joy? When you find answers to some of these questions within you will be in

Requiem To The Sea

Written by Ambreen Ishrat

It's been so many moons away that I have come to sit with you, sea - my friend. Still many moons have passed, sincerepparttar destruction was unleashed upon you. It is yet a night so similar and yet different in so many ways. Tonight I have come to pay my homage torepparttar 132404 imperious sea, or what remains of it. Can't help it if my homage sounds like a requiem. As I am here, by your side to shed my tears on your fate, and my own which is entwined with yours.

Today, I have come to say a silent prayer for my own future and that of yours.

I hearrepparttar 132405 damp saline ocean waves cry on and whisper to me. In that I hearrepparttar 132406 echo of my own fear, a wail for my own abandonment and those of my dreams. I recallrepparttar 132407 last time I was here, a partly cold December last year, when I walkedrepparttar 132408 stretch ofrepparttar 132409 Clifton beach. I took long strolls, turning back and forth retracing my own foot marks. The waves were carrying own their ballet, asrepparttar 132410 children on their winter break were playing and laughing. The breeze was pleasing to my face. I dipped my fingers in them and felt a silent and simple exhilaration grow inside me. But as dreams are lost upon water,repparttar 132411 reverie is gone. It was then, and its gone now. Right now a dark stretch of water lays in front of my eyes, as if I am staring at an abyss, and it is looking back to me.

Too spent to take a stroll, I choose to sit onrepparttar 132412 dusty brick wall breathing inrepparttar 132413 sadness and silence around me. I look around, atrepparttar 132414 vast stretch ofrepparttar 132415 deserted beach, this wasteland. Not far from where I sit,repparttar 132416 lights of two popular eateries shine on. But over here, an impregnable gloom hangs onrepparttar 132417 atmosphere, which overwhelmsrepparttar 132418 heart and senses. Asrepparttar 132419 yellowed foam slide back, it reveals bared and scraped beach stretch, raked clean by tractors in their bravado salvation efforts. There is no seaweed, no broken sea shells and ironically no trash. Though a solitary white polethene bag puffed up with air, is dodgingrepparttar 132420 waves and rolling onwards, as if it has a life of its own. But soon enough,repparttar 132421 waves catch up it and it disappears inrepparttar 132422 unfathomable depths.

I look onwards,repparttar 132423 dark and almost ghostly figure ofrepparttar 132424 oil tanker is visible, whose dark shape I could only fathom from where I sit. I am a scavenger always onrepparttar 132425 drift, a tramp trying to outrunrepparttar 132426 bounds of civilization, stealing my way out of city that echoesrepparttar 132427 emptiness of monotony and routine. I am forever a melancholic creature, who finds excuse and objects for nostalgia all too often. For me, life is a perpetual yesterday. I remember you in your former glory. And so I remember you as you were before and can't help comparing it with your desolate state today. You wererepparttar 132428 venue for celebrations with friends and forrepparttar 132429 solitary walks. You were my recluse fromrepparttar 132430 city life, and today you toss and turn all alone. The crowd is gone,

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