In days long ago passed, people worked hard, as hard as the country water from a well that left orange stains defying the whole idea of civilization itself in the sink. Often, they tended the fields and animals that belonged to them. They had to get up early in the morning and work all day until dark. It was a simple life that was hard; hard that carved its lines and difficulty into the hands and fingers and populated the head with gray hair and worry. However, they had a relationship with the universe; the Dao. Many people still work hard but don’t have that personal satisfaction anymore or that relationship. Many people work two or even three jobs to try to keep up. It’s always the real people that have it the hardest.