The Work Itself Is the Reward

Tennessee Williams, the celebrated American playwright, sat in his luxury hotel suite, silk curtains drawn against the morning sun. Three years had passed since The Glass Menagerie made him rich and famous. The maid had already cleaned. Room service waited outside. He had nowhere to be, nothing urgent to create.

And yet… he felt dead inside.

A story I first read in Billy Oppenheimer's excellent "Six at 6" newsletter, and that immediately struck me as a perfect illustration of what the Yogis teach about work.

Before success, Williams operated elevators for minimum wage. Seven dollars a week for food after rent. He wrote plays between shifts. He wrote stories during lunch breaks. Each word fought against exhaustion.

"I was not aware of how much vital energy had gone into this struggle until the struggle was removed," he would later write.