“I hate Mondays,” someone said to me the other day. “And, if there’s anything like a Monday depression, I have it.” This person contended that while he made a lot of money and so on, he wasn’t living his ideal life. He did everything because he had to. “If not for my responsibilities,” he said, “I could be wearing a robe like you and roaming around freely.” “Oh!” I chuckled. “That’s the Facebook Trap.” He looked at me quizzically and I said, “I mean, when you look at someone’s pics on social media and think they are having a time of their life.” “But you are doing what you love!” “I’ve learned to love what I do and you can do the same.” “I loathe getting up in the mornings and go through five days of drudgery every week,” he said. “And, what would you rather be doing?” “Retire and be stress-free, maybe vacation more frequently, take it a bit easy. I’d love to get up or work whenever I want, maybe write a book or two and just go with the flow.” It’s so innate in us that I wonder if it’s hardwired in our brains. Many among us feel that the current life is not the best kind, that we are working towards something else, some moment after which we won’t have to do things we don’t like. The day we reach that shore, life will be all sunshine and rainbows and we’ll spend every second of our time doing things we fancy, love or dream of. As if happiness and fulfillment is a certain stage where we’ll only be surrounded by people who love us and whom we love, when there’ll only be abundance, no stress, conflict or diseases, only joy and bliss, only peace and happiness. Some say that’s enlightenment. If you ask me, that’s not just a far-fetched idea but downright ignorant and preposterous too. I am not sure how we arrived at the conclusion that liberation means freedom from work in our daily lives or zero-resistance in the pursuit of our dreams. I read a nice little story in Celebration by Jaroldeen Edwards: Several years ago we were invited, along with several thousand others, to the opening of the first Great America amusement park. What an incredible experience! As we stood with our twelve children waiting to be admitted to the park, our twelve-year-old son said, “I can’t wait for the gates to open, Mother. I think when those gates open, it will be the best thing that has ever happened in this world.” You see, for that one night, it was going to be just like Pleasure Island in Pinocchio. Everything was to be free. My son and his cousin, who was the same age, begged to be allowed to go at their own pace, wherever they wished. Because the amusement park was powerfully lighted and fenced, and everyone present was a guest, we gave them permission. Two happier boys have never run into a wonderland. Before them lay every ride, all the food they could eat, games, sights, and splendor. The party lasted from eight in the evening until midnight. We had arranged to meet the boys by the merry-go-round at quarter-to-twelve. Of course, we saw them many times during the evening, always running to the next ride, their hands full of food, their eyes bright, eager, and a little greedy. At the end of the evening, as we watched tired families stream toward the exit gates, our two exhausted little boys, their faces stained with chocolate and mustard, their feet dragging, and their heads almost lolling with weariness, walked up to us. My son looked into my eyes. “I’ve learned something,” he told me. “You know how I said I thought the best thing in the whole world would be when those gates opened? Nothing but party and fun!” He pointed toward the large gates at the entrance. I nodded. “Well, now,” he said, “I think that the worst thing in this world would be if those gates closed and I couldn’t leave.” It was absolutely one of the best evenings of his childhood, but he had also learned that pleasure has a timer, and when the timer rings, it ceases to be fun. It is then time to return to those basic things that give fun its meaning. Work gives purpose and importance to life, and that sense of purpose in all that we do is what turns fun into something more meaningful — into celebration. Wiser words couldn’t be said in a better way. The joy of falling asleep on a soft bed after a day’s hard work is far greater than procrastinating all day and binge-watching Netflix till your eyelids droop. Staying up late into the night, for …