Courier

Courier: (n) a messenger who transports packages and documents

After many years of receiving mail, packages and having messages transferred all over the world, I can probably count on two hands the number of times that something went afoul.

Stop for a second and think about that.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Especially in this age of free shipping and orders being delivered to your door, seemingly night and day, how do these companies maintain such a meticulous record of efficiency?

I know it’s popular to attack institutions, religion, politics, business and entertainment, but every once in a while we should stop and consider the courtesy and care given by the courier.

For we certainly believe with all our hearts that if we mail a letter, ship a package or send something overnight, it is going to arrive safe and sound—often within the tiny window of our desire.

There is nothing else I know of that is so constant.

  • The grocery store runs out of sales items.
  • Politicians lie.
  • Religion can leave your soul dry and unfulfilled.
  • Entertainment is hit and miss.
  • And businesses set out to write a book and often get no further than Chapter Eleven.

But the courier stands, perhaps singularly, as the symbol of efficient, merciful, repetitious and tender loving care.

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Chore

Chore: (n) a routine task, especially a household one.

I suddenly realized that there is no happy word to describe work.

“Labor.” That sucks.

“Effort.” Well, that takes effort

“Struggle.”

Even the word “employment” is constricting, brings a frown to one’s face.

How do we expect to ever move forward in our consciousness when everything seems to be a chore? We didn’t like chores when we were children, so are we going
to wake up one morning having accumulated enough birthdays that we will become intrigued with doing repetitious tasks?

And if we don’t like doing these “events,” what’s to guarantee that the mechanic who’s repairing the airplane doesn’t get bored and take a shortcut?

If we don’t like doing the things we’re supposed to accomplish, won’t we eventually just do them poorly?

And once mediocre becomes normal, normal is certainly dangerous.

How can we re-train ourselves to believe that work is not a chore and that chores do not need to be repetitious, but rather, gain glamor and gleam by being enhanced with new possibilities?

This is not the season to insist on tradition. The work force in America needs a revolution–a revival, if you will–of the passion that originally made us believe we wanted to do what offered us a paycheck.

Don’t ask me to do my chores.

I will rebel, go to my room and listen to the music you don’t like.

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