Maybe it's Labor Day's approach that has me thinking about right livelihood. I've always liked this poem's discussion of being a miller.
The Miller of the Dee by Charles Mackay
There dwelt a miller hale and bold Beside the river Dee; He worked and sang from morn till night, No lark more blithe than he; And this the burden of his song Forever used to be, — "I envy nobody; no, not I, And nobody envies me!"
"Thou'rt wrong, my friend!" said good King Hal; "Thou'rt wrong as wrong can be; For could my heart be light as thine, I'd gladly change with thee. And tell me now, what makes thee sing, With voice so loud and free, While I am sad, though I'm the king, Beside the river Dee."
The miller smiled and doffed his cap: "I earn my bread," quoth he; "I love my wife, I love my friend, I love my children three; I owe no penny I cannot pay; I thank the river Dee, That turns the mill that grinds the corn, To feed my babes and me."
"Good friend," said Hal, and sighed the while, "Farewell! and happy be; But say no more, if thou'dst be true, That no one envies thee. Thy mealy cap is worth my crown, Thy mill my kingdom's fee; Such men as thou are England's boast, Oh miller of the Dee!"
Nowadays, nor England nor her former colony can boast about many workers like Mr. Miller. But we sure do have a lot of folks in advertising and financial derivatives.
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."