Don't you just hate work?

I hate work! Oh did that come out right? Yeah it did . Does that make me lazy? I feel I should be sitting at the balcony of my beach house, reading my books and writing my notes and when I tire of that, I could hit the gym, play some basketball, come back to the beach later then swim till the sun sets. You get the picture, abi? I hate work! I love some work but i definitely hate work generally. I'm mixed up in my head...lemme let you in on a secret - we all are!

I love life, I have my passions and I absolutely cannot do without them. First there's the water, which I love like nothing else. Drinking, bathing, swimming...let's just say if water were a celebrity, she woulda gotten a restraining order against me. But for real, I love the possibilities that are found in swimming; things I could only dream of become possible within the gentle support of the water. I become a gymnast sometimes, twisting and flipping to the silent applause of my invisible fans. There is a power in being able to make your own reality; to bow before limitations or to ignore them....what the hell!

Then I love words, small, big, written and spoken. I wrap my head around the dynamics of words and hours go by. I watch as one word becomes two then three, eventually growing into a poem or a story. The end point is something that evokes feelings and forget what they might say, the macho men, feelings lead to all sorts of things happening. I appreciate the magic of a word written on a page, where previously there was nothing. A piece of something created from the dust of an idea flying around in our minds; the wondering and the pondering about whether to sweep out that first word onto the blank page or brush it aside. Then there's the eventual ease with which subsequent words flow.

I see clearly the difference when words rest on a page and when they leave your tongue, spoken for the world to hear. Its like an eaglet taking its first flight; she runs, leaps, lands, keeps running then leaps again and the wind grabs her. I'm a great fan of Tracy Chapman. One time I wrote down the lyrics to her song "If you wait for me". When I read what I wrote, it sounded so bland (sorry Tracy), like sour milk sitting heavy on a tongue but when i sang it out loud (ok I confess; it was in the shower), I heard and felt the difference, I felt the energy of new life being born in form of a song; its rhythm acknowledged, its rhyme shared, its genius exposed (My girl would say, Z, must you always put poetry in everything?).

So now I ask, is it really that I hate work? Or is it that I hate some things that I'm not passionate about? Cos' I could be a life guard, I think. Nah, I forgot, there's also something I'm passionate about- MONEY!!