In the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around

When Leo Tolstoy declares, “In the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around you,” he speaks as a prophet crying against the blindness of endless labor. His words remind us that man, in his pursuit of toil and achievement, often forgets the beauty, the suffering, and the mystery that surrounds him. To invoke the name of God is to give his command the weight of eternity: life is not only for striving, but for seeing.

The origin of this wisdom lies in Tolstoy’s own awakening. A man who once sought glory in war and literature, he later turned toward simplicity and spiritual truth. He saw that relentless work and ambition could consume the soul, blinding one to the wonders of life — the fields, the sky, the faces of the poor, the eternal presence of the divine. His cry is not against labor itself, but against the loss of awareness when labor becomes chains.

To “look around you” is more than to glance with the eyes; it is to awaken the heart. It is to perceive the humanity of others, the sacredness of nature, the fleeting gift of existence. In every flower and every suffering face, in every moment of silence, there is a lesson greater than that found in endless busyness. Tolstoy calls us to remembrance: that man was not created to be a machine, but a soul in communion with the world.

His words are also a rebuke to societies that prize productivity above all. In the fever of progress, men forget their neighbors, exploit the earth, and neglect the presence of God. Yet to pause, to cease even for a moment, is to restore balance — to remember that work must serve life, not consume it.

Let the generations remember: the measure of life is not only in what is built or earned, but in what is seen, cherished, and understood. Tolstoy’s words endure as a timeless call to pause amid the storm, to lift one’s gaze from ceaseless labor, and to behold the world — radiant, fragile, and divine.