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Working Consciously

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I debated for a moment about putting up a blog post today – I am tired and lazy.  Yesterday, while walking down the sidewalk along the ocean in Nha Trang, I looked up to check on the name of a possible restaurant for supper; and in the process, my foot found a drop off leading to a badly twisted foot.  Of course, the pain was real and another lesson was learned – look down before looking up.  The foot has swollen and is making walking difficult.  That said, I went for another long walk at the ocean’s edge wearing shoes rather than going barefoot as I normally would.  When I am back in Changzhou, China later this week, I will give my foot a good rest.  But for now, I don’t want to miss too much in these last days left in Vietnam.

Today’s photo was taken my last late morning in Phnom Penh.  Looking toward the sun gave the water a silver cast, a different “feel.”  I knew that the people on this small boat were working hard to make their living, but I didn’t feel a need to feel sorry for them.  Their work was authentic, the work of making a living, the work of providing for a family, the raising of children.  The work of living deserves one’s attention and respect – all forms of that work.  It is so easy to get caught up in valuing or devaluing others and their work.  Does it make a difference if the work is sifting through the garbage and sorting the garbage for recycling purposes, or whether one is cutting a deal for a corporation that will result in a six figure bonus?  Work is worthy when its intention is to feed a family, to do something of value for the community.  It is about intention and honesty.  Why does one work?  How does one work?

One thing I am learning as I wander through IndoChina is that people are more alike than different.  The motivation to find a mate, to raise children and to make life better seems to be universal.  Where it breaks down is where consciousness is weak.  Drugs, alcohol, psychosis – the barriers between ego and the unconscious break down and one is left facing nightmares even when awake.  Work becomes a way to feed the demons and one has no moral compass left to choose the work being done.  Pimp one’s little girl child?  If that is what it takes to feed the demons, yes.  Steal the donations in a box for the care of the needy?  Why not, the demons need to be fed.

I have seen both versions of people at “work” here in IndoChina.  And it made me think of life back “home” in Canada and in China.  The same images appear.  Consciousness is not limited to race or culture or geography.  The breakdown in consciousness so that the ego is “possessed” by the demons of the personal and collective unconscious is universal.  It is just easier to see when one is away from home.


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