Dignity of labor- the art of manliness

June 28, 2016

Dignity specifically of labor is as essential to mental, spiritual and physical well being as water, food, and oxygen. To be implacable, stubborn and head strong about what gives a man character, strength and wisdom even if it comes at an unmentionable cost that can never be uttered in one man’s life time, not even to his wife and to keep that one secret in his heart is nothing short of a commitment to the belief – without these things man is nothing more than an animal. But with these things firmly affixed in your head, heart and every cell in your body – even in the face of extreme physical hardship….even before death….a man has all the power in this world to hold his soul in his hands long past the point at which the body should have surrendered it.

‘Understand this! To be a frontier man who earns his keep from the good grace of the land – you can’t be a sissy….you think I am tough as nails…I know it’s easy for me to come across that way when one has a square jaw, broad shoulders and eyes that can set aflame brush weed.

But sometimes…not all the time, just sometimes….just the mere act of waking up every morning, shaving, putting my heavy belt and strapping my boots so tightly that my feet feel like stumps takes incredible courage…..as it’s not like a movie where it all begins and ends and you still have time to window shop around the mall with those happy thoughts that…at least it all ended well…the hero got the girl…he rode off into the sunset and with these thoughts swirling in one’s head it’s easy to conjure up the romantic image of the frontier man that his life is somehow complete…whole…and of all men…only this variety has got it all together…only he’s got it all figured out…connected the dots etc etc.

But that’s just a movie…in real life courage is to wake up and do the same thing again and again and again…there is no beginning or end…no promise that it may all even end well or happily…it’s just one long road called litany with no turnings that stretches out as far as the eye can see – that to me is real courage. That to me is character. The constant man…whose always there…rain or shine…doesn’t matter how hard the sun beats down…he’s always there, turning the mythical wheel of life….not for himself. But for others who may never ever know his travails…as he hides them from them….but it’s all there…yes it is, the scars on his face…they run deep….he leans forward slowly…a bullet wound maybe that once tore thru flesh and bone….he never takes the same route twice…he’s always mindful of how life and death are merely two sides of the same coin…the constant man….who keeps going on and on….with no thoughts, none at least that seem to preoccupy city folk all the time with all their nonsense of trying to pretend to me someone who even they themselves know they’re not….just the constant man who keeps going on and on….the infinite man.

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