While talking with my friends in Berlin the issue of workaholism was raised. Just a week before someone else did just the same. Both times it was in context of my current work and both times it was a woman who suggested that I’m, well, a workaholic.

Naturally, that incited me to give the issue some serious thought. The result was the first version of this post that was far too long, too complex – and too personal to post here. But the conclusion I reached was that I don’t consider myself a workaholic (yet!) and here is why:
- because I do know how much time I still do spend each week not working (for example writing this),
- because last year I’ve spent a couple of months in a very relaxed way and thus I’ve loaded myself with positive energy (rebuilding it after 2004),
- because it’s controlled workaholism meaning that knowing that being relatively young and alone I’m capable of working more than I would be when that would inevitably change, so it’s a kind of investment in the future,
- because I love what I do – the project is exciting, challenging and gives ample opportunities to grow,
- because I do remember about impermanence and I do realize the fundamental emptiness and interconnection of everything, because I do know whatever we do is in a sense illusory and insignificant in comparison to the ocean of big mind.

All that means that I do work a lot because I enjoy it and it’s a stage in life when I can do it. But it would pass, naturally and I would hopefully grow enough by then that I wont cling to it too much.