The Working Man

BIMBO CABIDOG

To work is to be human, as to bark is to be dog. What ultimately distinguished humans from the rest of the animal kingdom was not higher intelligence, but a pair of hands. Shortly after the first appearance of the species Homo sapiens on the planet, the hands got to work. And work defined humanity.

With humans at work, the world would never be the same again. Man changed the world. It would in turn change him. Part of his change was becoming slave of a work-bound and hurried world, captive of the thinking that he could not live without earning a living. This lashed him to the machine of social toil, eight to 12 hours a day five-six days a week.

The enslavement is actually longer, and it goes by the name Routine. It starts with the early ritual at home to get ready for work, proceeds to the hassle on the street for a ride to the office/plant, and settles down to putting everything in place for the day.

After work, the routine goes in reverse: logs out of workplace, hits the street joining the mass of humanity rushing home, scrambles for ride, and settles down with a sigh of relief to hearth and family.

The robotic hum takes the whole time of day from early morning to early evening. In ten years, it begins to sap the juices out of life. The work slave loses what actually makes life worth living: being free to relish the wonderful moments of a brief earthly sojourn.

The simple joys become rare and vanish. The childlike disposition of a once happy human being breaks under the pressure to do a man’s job 300 days a year, and the fun of living turns to the angst-ridden lot of striving to live.

There is no more time to bond with family, or have fun with friends. The adventuresome self is reined by the fear of not sustaining the stint of dogged labor and therefore not earning as the system orders. It foregoes with a carefree, meaningful and fulfilling life.

Serving the sentence, the damned mortal shirks from the disapproving stares of other fellow slaves, at his/her spending time lazing in the beach or drinking with barkada (gang), instead of burying one’s self in sordid drudgery. What a waste, the judgers rue.

But down the road, goals get confused. Sought-for contentment escapes. The strife ends up hounded by the imperative to strive more. No worthy prize awaits. There is only the continuous turning of the daily grind, and wasting of life in slow death day by day.

What a sorry way to live: exhausting oneself out in ceaseless struggle to earn a living. Live! Period!

Labor is not what God has made you for. He did not fashion you in His image and likeness, to bend your knees to mammon. You do not stop being human when you don’t sweat to buy food or ensure your breath. That is not the purpose or reason why you are here.

Being a rational animal, pundits say, you must worry about earning a living. Whew! Behold the fouls in the air, they do not reap nor gather into barns. Yet, the heavenly Father feeds them. Shouldn’t folks skip taking thought for tomorrow, and let tomorrow take care of itself? Others along the food chain do not, yet they eat. They do not hustle for a living. They simply live.

The natural biophysical environment supports life. Basic needs can actually be satisfied by the resources it has. Rest assured. Don’t be restless, convincing yourself with the strange thought that you cannot just depend on what earth has to offer, but must renew it. Begin to entertain the thought of needing more, and you become slave of the thinking that you can’t do without them.

So, from just feeling inadequate, humans must yet take on the obligation of doing something to resolve the sense of inadequacy. Historically, this necessitated and entailed (at least for them) a different order from the rest of the natural world. Necessity and the matter of course enjoined the specie to put pair of hands to work, and work endlessly. From then on its needs would grow exponentially to infinity.

Education attributes the peculiar circumstance to so-called higher intelligence.  Then so-called intelligence has done little to help him, and so much to imprison him. The truth, not it, will set him free.