When I had first read it, one of my "dream jobs" had evaporated, I had just bought my "Dream House", was laid off, and was working in an unheated machine shop that was in the rear of an Amoco station. We were expected to run outside in the middle of a cut and pump gas. The cheap Yankee who ran the place was using drain oil for cutting, etc. It was rock bottom.
Every once in a while, I forget that it was the jobs I hated, not the work, and the passage reminds me of that. Chemist or not, I love to run a lathe and miller and do a good job. I still do, in my garage, and take pride in my work, whether it's a monel cannon for a friend's boat, or a silly stainless adapter to fit a bird feeder.
However, nothing has ever made me like the Quarterly paperwork. "Work and love made visible" do not apply to the IRS, and I'll never be able to stretch Gibran that far!