The word complain derives from the Latin for sob or bewail. It may seem that a complainer is doing something but, no, he’s just salting his soup. Complaint acts without doing. It’s an absence of love, an indifference to what is being complained about.
The prison of personality chokes off love by first inhibiting and finally denying spontaneity. Perfect behaviour is spontaneous behaviour. Love doesn’t calculate. It cares nothing for results. Love’s reward is the action itself.
We think the purpose of the mind is to think. (The mind would think that, wouldn’t it?) But that’s not it. The purpose of the mind is to see the real. In the seeing is the doing, the spontaneous conversion of love into action
The least plausible basis for action? A finding of right and wrong.
The director calls “Action!” We hear “Activities!”
Men's Work 