When someone asks what there is to do,
light the candle in his hand.
I hate going to half-days. To explain: we get half a day a week off from work, to go for teaching. Don't get me wrong, I love teaching, but somehow, half-days just aren't what they're supposed to be. People spend half of the time going for coffee, or sitting around complaining about inappropriate consults. My half-day is Friday morning, and as I sit at half-day, inside I'm burning with the need to get back to patients. Every second spent listening to complaints makes me think about how my patients are losing out because of this waste of time.
I'm unhappy to be there. Meanwhile, everyone else calls it "protected time" (a phrase I hate, obviously) that is their right by contract to take off from work.
Incredibly to me, I finally found support for my position in the writings of Rumi:
The intellectual is always showing off;
the lover is always getting lost.
The intellectual runs away, afraid of drowning;
the whole business of love is to drown in the sea.
Intellectuals plan their repose;
lovers are ashamed to rest.