playthings

Playthings

Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning.
I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.
I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
Perhaps you glance at me and think, "What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!"
Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies.
I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver.
With whatever you find you create your glad games, I spend both my time and my strength over things I never can obtain.
In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I too am playing a game.

- Rabindranath Tagore

I once stood near a stream, watching the ducks and the stream. A little girl came and played with stones.
She would pick a stone, wash it in the stream and take it back to where it had been.
Ducks watched and I watched and her mother watched, unaware, she would pick a stone, wash it in the stream and take it back to where it had been.
I sometimes make the mistake of collecting the stones, when I should place them where they had been.

Sideways, Work is no fun unless its play.