Watching these people and the way they interacted with each other, I could not help but be impressed. But there was another feeling, difficult to define. Was I possibly jealous of this Quechua family? There was no denying that I who had never known poverty or hunger felt, if not jealous, at least envy for their ability to enjoy so completely each other, their work, the meager food and homes they shared, and all that was around them. I had learned that Andean Indians often talk to nature. It is not uncommon to hear a man or woman murmur words of greeting to a bird, flower, or cloud. Such things are a part of their lives and the source of immense pleasure. Was it possible that these people knew something I did not understand? Could I learn from the Quechua what my own culture and background had failed to teach?

The idea of worship in work was at once a doctrine and a daily discipline. The ideal was variously expressed that secular achievements should be as "free from error" as conduct, that manual labor was a type of religious ritual, that godliness should illuminate life at every point.

Infinite silence is the mind of God. It is a mind that can create anything out of the field of pure potentiality. Infinite silence contains infinite dynamism. Practice silence and you will acquire silent knowledge. In this silent knowledge is a computing system that is far more precise and far more accurate and far more powerful than anything that is contained in the boundaries of rational thought.

May we learn to unite the stress of our labors and the re-creation of our leisure into a kind of restful sacred work!

ORGANIC is a word I'll stick by. It means the work is an extension of your blood and body; it has the rhythm of nature. This is something artists don't talk about much and it's not even well understood: the fact that there exists a state of feeling and that when you reach it, when you hit it, you can't go wrong.

If, as we work, we can transmit life into our work,
life, still more life, rushes into us to compensate, to be ready
and we ripple with life through the days.
Even if it is a woman making an apple dumpling,
or a man, a stool,
if life goes into the pudding, good is the pudding,
good is the stool,
content is the woman, with fresh life rippling in to her,
content is the man.

A vision without a task
might be a mirage
A task without a vision
can be drudgery
But a vision with a task
brings hope to the world.

If our lives are too busy, even though it is what we see as worthwhile work, it is simply an excuse, an escape from God. God, and many of us spend a lifetime avoiding it. We need time that is set apart just to get to know God. ... It is time in silence for listening. And eventually it becomes a time when we are continually aware of God's presence. As the clutter is moved out of lives, we gradually begin to realize that there is no longer a separation between the sacred and profane, for all is holy, all is sacred. Work no longer an escape, since all is filled with God's presence.

I slept and dreamt that life was joy
I woke and saw that life was service
I acted and behold! Service was joy.

Guild members, we are told, would begin their day with the master in prayer to the guild's patron saint before turning to the work, and prayers of one kind or another punctuated the whole day. ... Oh, for the ordered structure of the guild workshop! The strong clear voice "re-minding" me, in the real sense of that word, to return to the silence.

The object of leisure is work. The object of work is holiness ... meaning wholeness. Recreation is for the sake of work. Leisure time is for the sake of recreation in order that the labourer may the better return to work. Games are like sleep -- necessary for the health of body and mind -- a means to health, the health of the labourer, the one who prays, the contemplative. Leisure is secular, work is sacred. Holidays are the active life, the working life is the contemplative life.