Looking at the chef engaged in his work, precise metal in motion, and hands, his hands moulding and kneading- it really is not a job cut out for most. It reminded me:
laborare est orare:
(never complicated responsibilities) the essence of it breathes honesty, (not drudgery) its directive simple.
And when else do we feel simultanously free and vital than when we are engaged in that we love; where else do does one feel in harmony with something beyond his lonesome self. We are physical beings in a physical world; shall we not wrestle this and remember how we feel alive when in motion, in tandem with that we enjoy and express, and with that we believe in?
Teach me, my God and my King,
In all things thee to see,
And what I do in any thing,
To do it as for thee:
Not rudely, as a beast,
To runne into an action;
But still to make thee prepossest,
And give it his perfection.
A man that looks on glasse,
On it may stay his eye;
Or if he pleaseth, through it passe,
And then the haev’n espie.
All may of thee partake:
nothing can be so mean,
Which with his tincture (for thy sake)
Will not grow bright and clean.
A servant with this clause
Makes drudgerie divine:
Who sweeps a room, as for thy laws,
Makes that and th’ action fine.
This is the famous stone
That turneth all to gold:
For that which God doth touch and own
Cannot for lesse be told.