Work can be pretty draining some days, as most everyone knows. I'm certain there are those readers who feel that some days at work are exhausting; and if you have enough of those days consistently, you begin to feel as though you're less of a human and more of a walking body. I call this flatlining: you're alive, but you only know you're alive because your body is still moving. Those motions are mechanical, and your mind has less and less to do with them each day than the day before. This zombie-flatlining life can only go so far, until you burst forth from your deadness to pursue life outside work again.
Of course, we all have seasons in life when we are busier than normal, and it is when those periods end that you return to social and emotional homeostasis: you are balanced again. I know, then, that this period of busyness will soon expire. In the meantime, I gather what life I can from the zombie-robot-dead-person days, because I can find in them sparks of life: increased trust among co-workers, feelings of productiveness and integrity, and the knowledge that others need me. Yes, there is a measure of satisfaction, but I know I can only appreciate that measure in the knowledge that a new horizon will soon splash its effusive light on the landscape of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever (that last clause was added for dramatic effect; I wasn't really speaking of the afterlife).
Of course, we all have seasons in life when we are busier than normal, and it is when those periods end that you return to social and emotional homeostasis: you are balanced again. I know, then, that this period of busyness will soon expire. In the meantime, I gather what life I can from the zombie-robot-dead-person days, because I can find in them sparks of life: increased trust among co-workers, feelings of productiveness and integrity, and the knowledge that others need me. Yes, there is a measure of satisfaction, but I know I can only appreciate that measure in the knowledge that a new horizon will soon splash its effusive light on the landscape of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever (that last clause was added for dramatic effect; I wasn't really speaking of the afterlife).
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