The story is told of a commuter who daily traveled to the office over the same stretch of highway. Over the course of several days she watched as three state employees worked their way up the highway, planting saplings every few yards.

Each of the three men had his assigned task: one man dug a hole; one man dropped a sapling into the hole; one man filled the hole with dirt. One day she noticed with curiosity that only two of the three men were on the job. Yet they persisted in their prescribed roles: one man dug a hole; one man filled the hole with dirt.

When she observed the same thing the next day, her curiosity compelled her to pull over and talk to the two men. "Why," she asked with some bemusement, "are you digging a hole, only to have your coworker fill it back up with dirt?" "Well," replied the one, "the fellow who plants the trees called in sick."

Not everyone has such clarity around his role.

Many men and women--some who make their living caring for the bodies and souls of others, relying upon circumstances beyond their province; or, some who labor in a field of creativity, dependent upon the inspiration of unseen, elusive muses--typically find it difficult to come to the end of the day with a sense of fulfillment.

Their day seems filled, but their soul seems unfulfilled.

But what's a soul supposed to do?

Perhaps surprisingly, it's not always a matter of doing more "stuff" or even practicing better time management. Let's take the "lazy bum" option off the table and consider a handful of other possibilities:

Do you have one who can help you define the measure of your success? Depending upon the arena, it might be an employer, a spiritual friend, or Bob your uncle. Sometimes a sense of fulfillment is elusive because we have no idea what it looks like. We've never defined the parameters.

Mightn't it be possible that your occupation or avocation is, in fact, not resonant with your spirit? You can do more in a quest to satisfy your longing, but if your energy is not directed by your desire, your sense of dissatisfaction will remain.

Is there a specific, enormous task you've been avoiding? A reality you've avoided acknowledging? A difficult conversation to be had? All of the busyness in other quarters will not satisfy you until you address the giant hairball orbiting about your head.

How might you be confusing your role with your worth? Is there another way you might evaluate your worth--by who you are, rather than by what you do in terms of occupation or avocation?

Are you feeding your whole person: heart, soul, mind, and strength? Is it possible one or more quadrants are going begging?   

Might there be another way you've been filling the hole with dirt without planting the tree?