Surround yourself with people who take their work seriously, but

The words of Colin Powell—“Surround yourself with people who take their work seriously, but not themselves, those who work hard and play hard.”—resound like the counsel of a general who has marched through both war and peace, who has seen men rise to greatness and others fall to vanity. In this wisdom lies the balance of life: seriousness in duty, but lightness in spirit; relentless effort, but also joy. It is a call to choose companions not only for their skill, but for the quality of their hearts.

To take work seriously is to honor the responsibilities placed upon us. In every age, the ancients praised diligence as a virtue. The farmer who tends his field faithfully will reap abundance; the soldier who trains with discipline will be ready in the hour of battle; the leader who governs with care will guide his people to safety. Work neglected is destiny betrayed. Powell’s command is clear: surround yourself with those who honor their labor, for in their presence, you too will be uplifted.

Yet he adds another truth: do not choose those who take themselves too seriously. For pride is the weight that sinks even the strongest vessel. The man who cannot laugh at himself, who cannot share in the joy of others, will breed bitterness and division. The ancients knew this too: Diogenes mocked Alexander the Great not to belittle him, but to remind all men that even kings cast shadows in the sun. To be human is to embrace humility, to know that while work must be treated with gravity, the self must be carried with lightness.

History shows us the power of this balance. Consider Winston Churchill in the darkest days of the Second World War. He bore the crushing burden of leading a nation under siege, yet even in those hours, he shared wit, humor, and warmth with his people. His seriousness of work was unshakable, but his ability to laugh—even at himself—kept the spirits of an entire country alive. He embodied the rhythm Powell describes: men and women who “work hard and play hard” do not burn out, but endure, their joy fueling their perseverance.

The meaning of Powell’s words is thus a map for choosing companions and shaping communities. To walk among those who work hard will sharpen your own edge. To walk among those who can laugh and play will soften your spirit and keep it whole. Without the first, you fall into laziness; without the second, you fall into despair. Only in the union of both does life reach its fullness.

For us, the lesson is practical and urgent: examine the company you keep. Ask yourself—do the people around you inspire diligence, courage, and excellence? Do they also remind you to laugh, to rest, to savor the fleeting joys of life? If not, seek those who do. For the soul is shaped by its companions, just as iron sharpens iron and laughter heals the weary heart.

The practical action is this: in your own work, give it your full measure, your seriousness, your devotion. But in your dealings with yourself and others, carry humility, laughter, and warmth. Build teams, friendships, and families upon this dual foundation. Encourage others to labor with purpose, but also to rejoice with freedom. When triumph comes, celebrate it; when trials come, endure them with humor and hope.

Thus, let us pass this teaching down: life is not only labor nor only leisure—it is the dance of both. To work hard and play hard, to be serious in duty but light in spirit, is to walk the path of strength and joy. As Colin Powell counseled, choose such companions, and become such a companion yourself. For these are the people who will build with you, endure with you, and laugh with you—and together, you will leave a legacy that outlasts the fleeting shadows of time.