Still Waking Up

Some days it seems like I’m driving with the brakes on. No matter how hard I hit the accelerator, I get an equal and opposite reaction from somewhere deep inside that says, “Slow down.”

It’s like, when God made us (or when we incarnated ourselves, whatever you believe about that) we got bumped up a level in the Game of Life. “Easy” was too easy. So then somebody up there hit the “Difficult” setting. Now, at least, we have a challenge.

What I mean is, I have these marvelous intentions, just like everyone else does, I’m sure – to keep my apartment clean and orderly, to keep up with the paperwork at the office, and to stock my cupboards with healthy, organic fruits and vegetables.

What happens is that my desk ends up looking like half the trees in Canada came there to die; half the mail in Calgary came to my home to die, and half the beef in Alberta ended up in my tummy. And not an apple in sight.

Why do we do this to ourselves? I feel like a biblical figure, whining that I never do what I know is good for me.

Well anyway.

Today I managed to push myself, brakes squealing loudly, to clean my apartment and invite a couple friends over for an old movie. (But really, Sean Connery never gets old.) And I have a bag of chips ready to eat. Mmm mm good. My body craves it. Stupid self-destructive wanna-be fat body.

Didn’t some new age writer once say that “surrender” is a good thing and “resistance” is a bad thing?

Maybe the chips aren’t so bad after all.

I surrender.

The other day I was waiting in line to use the photocopier. (This will be the high point of my day.) The young woman using it had a really cool skirt on, the kind you never see at an engineering company. It was bright and colourful and looked more like a quilt than a skirt.

“I like your skirt,” I said.

“Thanks,” she said.

“It says, ‘I haven’t sold my soul yet. My soul is still mine.'”

“Yup.” (Or something along those lines.)

She was kind of cute, too, so I had hoped to engage her in a more meaningful conversation than this. In ‘hindsight’, however, perhaps the fact that I was staring at her ass was more of a concern to her than the interesting conversation I was starting.

My grandmother had an expression, “keeping body and soul together” – doing what it takes to get by – as if one’s soul might depart unexpectedly if one didn’t get around to paying the bills. She grew up in the Depression years. Back then, if you didn’t have enough money, the threat of starvation was more imminent than getting your cable cut off.

I’m doing what I can to keep body and soul together, but I think I may be working against myself. Every time I get mired in legal terms and bureaucracy, I feel my soul complaining. I’m trying to do what it takes to get by, and my soul is talking about going on vacation.

Occasionally it wins out and breaks through. Yesterday, I suddenly started singing in the hallway. Where did that come from? One minute I’m updating a co-worker on project status, and the next minute it’s “What a difference… a day maaaaaakes… 24… little hours…” The guy sitting across the hall started laughing. Rob had already seen one of my shows, so he knows I don’t belong here – I belong on stage. He took the opportunity to remind me of this. My soul responded, “See? Told ya so. Let’s blow this joint and go play.”

Hold on, Broadway… My soul is on the way, even if my body is a little behind.

Today at work I was discussing a contract with a co-worker. I had given the contractor our new legal conditions to review prior to signing a new contract. The contractor came back and gave me a HUGE list of exceptions to the conditions (legal requirements that they would not agree to).

One of those exceptions was to a phrase that said the contractor will use “best efforts” to accomplish the requirement in that paragraph. They said they preferred “reasonable efforts.” To me, that either sounded like they were quibbling over insignificant details, or they were trying to avoid doing their best. Either way, I didn’t like it and I pushed back. I mentioned it to my co-worker, who informed me that there are legal implications for both phrases, and they each have very specific meanings. “Reasonable efforts” means that the contractor will do what any reasonable and helpful person would do to achieve the goal. “Best efforts” means that they will go above and beyond the call of duty, sacrificing their own interests, doing whatever it takes.

So for example, if my boss asked me to use “best efforts” to get 20 hours of work done before Friday, without charging overtime, that would mean working overnight for free. “Reasonable efforts” would mean, I’ll do what I can to get things done by 5:00 and then that’s all you can expect of me, unless you’re willing to pay overtime. And even then, I pretend to have a life outside of work that I may not be willing to sacrifice.

At first I felt a little ignorant because I had been arguing with the contractor over something I thought I understood, but didn’t understand after all. Then I recognized the opportunity to learn from this.

I think it’s time to go back and check my employment contract… Did I agree to “best efforts” before I knew what that meant? Is this why I’m being asked to do more than what’s reasonable?

Maybe I just need to become better acquainted with the word “delegate.”

And the word, “No.”

About a year ago, I discovered a new theory about God, the origins of the universe, the destiny of mankind and the ultimate meaning of life. I discovered it in an unlikely source. And the more I think about it, the more it works.

It goes like this: God was sitting around in a vacuum one day (before days even existed), feeling rather bored with the non-existence of everything. God gets to thinking, I should do something to keep busy. But everything God thinks of to do (creating a universe, starting a new cellular network, whatever) is kind of boring, because there isn’t anything that God can’t do in the blink of an eye. So God gets to asking the question, What would be challenging? What is something that an all-powerful, indestructible being such as myself could…

Wait a second…

Hmmm.

I’m all-powerful and indestructible…

How would that work?

And so God finds a way to blow up the indestructible. As the energy from that explosion resonates through the void, a universe (perhaps more than one) is created.

And we are born, all of us, bits of God, in a world made up from bits of God.

But that’s not the end of the story. God didn’t just commit suicide – God wanted a challenge greater than simply destroying an indestructible being and creating a universe – God wanted to recreate God out of it all. Like a phoenix. Or like that T1000 guy in Terminator II when the frozen metal melts and flows back together, only without all the evil.

And how is this done? Those of you who have read Neale Donald Walsh’s books about “Conversations with God” might recognize this. In between laundry and going to work and getting the kids to hockey practice, we have a much bigger job to do: to recognize the image of God in each other, and come together in relationship, and Love One Another, so that all the parts of God (us) will be brought closer and closer together over the generations. We have to remember who we really are.

Christians might argue that this idea is completely foreign to the Truth of Christianity, which is that God came to Earth and died for us so that we can have life. Hmm. Okay. But what if Christ’s death is symbolic of something greater? And what about all the other creation myths of God creating the world from Himself/Herself?

The really whacky thing about this whole theory, is that, quite possibly, the Truth about Life, The Universe and Everything… may have come from a cartoonist.

Check it out:
http://www.andrewsmcmeel.com/godsdebris/

I’m sure I’m not alone when I say, I have a lot of different personalities that make up my Self. I’m not talking about personalities with different names that come out at different times of day, without each other’s knowledge. (That’s a little extreme, and if you have this disorder, talk to your dominant personality about getting help.)

In my case, it’s the inner authoritarian and the inner rebel, both at war since childhood. There’s the masculine side and feminine side to all of us (the anima and animus, in Jungian terms) – the side that ponders and feels and connects, and the side that says, let’s go do something! I have the skinny guy and the fat guy, who have heated discussions every time the word ‘gym’ shows up on my calendar, or we’re passing a McDonald’s on the way home for dinner. (Yes, I said “we” on purpose.)

The geek and the luddite – “Let’s get a new computer!” No. Why? It only emits harmful radiation and cuts into my gym time. “Gym time? Working out sucks. Why go and lift weights when you can stay home and play cool computer games online? This old computer isn’t fast enough. I need something faster.” Why, so you can waste all your time living in cyberspace rather than getting out with friends?

It goes on and on.

Today the fat guy and the skinny guy are about tied. I ate healthy for lunch, but I’m going to skip the gym again and stay home to do laundry and read.

Which brings me back to the authoritarian, the rebel, the anima and the animus. We had a big group meeting the other day about going out versus staying home, and lately, the winner has been, staying at home and reading.

I like reading.

You must, too, or else you wouldn’t have gotten this far.

Thanks for joining us.