What does Labor Day mean for you?

For me, it used to mean “back to school” time. But these days, it means a day that many of my clients have off from work (I’m self-employed, so “time off” is kind of by-choice). Somehow, Labor Day hasn’t had much real meaning for me.

Until a few weeks ago.

If you’ve been following my “summer vacation” working at the Esalen Institute, then you’ll know that I spent roughly two weeks working in the kitchen, followed by two weeks working in the farm and garden. I paid to do manual labor for 32 hours a week, in a kind of exchange for room & board and a month-long workshop.

As a work scholar, my work was physically demanding. In the kitchen I  chopped vegetables, washed dishes by hand, and cleaned tables, among other chores. In the farm and garden, I harvested, weeded, planted, and triple-washed produce for use in the kitchen.

At the end of each six-hour shift, I often felt exhausted. I had aches. Bruises. Strains.

On my second day working on the farm, I planted over 1,000 seedlings with the help of three other people, digging holes and crouching over to gingerly place tiny kale plants into their new homes and packing them into the freshly tilled soil with care. I began to notice muscles that I rarely used. My calves burned from standing at an odd angle on a 15 percent slope. My quadriceps twinged with pain from trying to find a comfortable position for planting. I finally found that kneeling on my knees was easiest, or scooting along, down the slope, on my rear end as I welcomed tiny kales into the earth.

And then, in a conversation with a volunteer on the farm, we entered into a revealing conversation:  How are we treating all those laborers I have seen in the fields, whether in Watsonville and Salinas working with artichokes and garlic, or even Napa and Sonoma counties, where the laborers tend to grapes?

If I was working just six hours a day and feeling tired, how must those laborers feel after an 8, 12, or 16 hour day? For me, after a tough day working at Esalen, I could relax and unwind in the hot tub, and look forward to a gourmet meal. But what about those who labor in the fields? What do they do to relax and renew themselves? With their meager pay, what do they do to afford some self-care?

I thought, too, about people who work in other places. Like kitchens. Laundries. Homes. Institutions. Gardens. All the people who work with their hands and their bodies, caring for the crucial needs of others, and all-too-frequently, struggling to care for themselves.

I came away from my Esalen experience with renewed appreciation for people who extend themselves in ways that would absolutely tax me. I have intense gratitude for people who are known as “laborers,” and the important, but often-hidden, work that they do.

If you are one of those laborers, my heart goes out to you, and my wish is that you always find at least some part of your work that you enjoy. Please know that I am sending you gratitude, appreciation, and love for you and what you create in the world.

And if you are not one of those laborers, I invite you to open your heart and give thanks to the people who plant, harvest, wash, transport, and prepare  your food. Who wash your clothes. Who vacuum, sweep, and clean your homes, offices, and hotel rooms. Who drive your buses and boats. Who do so much for you, so much behind the scenes.

And perhaps you can make it a daily practice to deliberately, consciously, thank at least one laborer a day. I can tell you, the work they do for you is incredibly valuable. Please, don’t take these laborers for granted.

Happy Labor Day, everyone.

Love,

PS – Do you want to be laboring at work you love? Then please join me at the Esalen Institute retreat center in Big Sur, California, September 30 to October 2, 2011, for my workshop, “Crafting Careers That Truly Fit.” Instead of feeling frustrated about your future, you’ll feel a sense of relief, and a sense of your new direction and next steps. Questions about the workshop? Email me at info @ workfromwithin.com