What is it like to grasp the world as strongly as we can?
It is that moment when you worked all day trying to beat a deadline. It is that moment when you thought that it was almost done and you spent another hour to fix it, and another hour. It is that subtle feeling when you feel more comfortable staying late at the office rather than going back home and see your family or friends.
That is true that men (and women) need to work. But work is not what makes men (and women). Again, I have to ask this question: Why are we working?
Work is a means to achieve something. And that ‘something’ is, I suppose, our wellbeing. Through work, we want the world to be closer to our grasp. Through work, we get money and through money we can get more to fulfill our needs. But what is wellbeing when what is supposed to make us well sucks our being? Should we have things before we can be something?
No, my point is not against working. My point is to show that it is equally puzzling that the more hours we put in the work (to accomplish whatever project) the more we feel that things may slip out of our hands. Even when we thought we’re done, we still think that it’s not done. Work is necessary—until a point. A point where we have to let go. A point where we realize that we are human beings and not machines. That once we die, we won’t regret that we haven’t worked as much, but we will certainly regret that we haven’t given the care we must to those that are close to us.