I was thinking about what Labor Day used to mean to me this morning as I sat by the lake. I taught elementary school in the early 60’s for 8 years and Labor Day meant the end of my glorious time off.  I always went back to the classroom somewhat reluctantly, that is until the first week was under my belt.  And then it all felt comfortable again.

As a kid I can remember how conflicted I felt about Labor Day.  I both wanted to go back to school and dreaded finding out who my teacher would be.  The anxiety I lived with in childhood shadowed me for most of my life, that is until I found recovery.

Now I think of Labor Day as a time to honor others, those who still “labor” and those who simply cross my path as I wander through the day, not necessarily “laboring,” just being.  And I consider my “work” now to be kindness, attention, the expression of hope and love, particularly to those who are struggling to feel hopeful themselves.

What do you think about as you face this labor Day, 2009?

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