On the bulletin board in my office I have a short poem by Wendell Berry, a farmer, environmental advocate and writer, entitled “Real Work.”
It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.