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I am a writer. I eat Spam. I use the coffee grounds twice. I drive a rusted '78 VW van. I seldom go downtown. The buildings are not to human scale and beings go to their offices wearing ties and or high heels. To me, sitting in an air-conditioned cubical, under florescent light is an unnatural behavior and does something to the human spirit. No one ever said on their deathbed "I wish I had spent more time in the office." Do you think we would care much about the title on our office doors if we knew the Grim Reaper was on the other side? People do not talk about the human spirit anymore. The well being of the spirit has been de-emphasized in favor of the bottom line. It is so much easier to put on a tailored business suit than to design one's spirit. If one's résumé mentioned "Well developed sense of spirit," the chances of being hired might be diminished. It is so easy to waste our days before the TV, computer, doing lunch, meeting people and deadlines. We seldom notice the color of the lotus, sound of wind in the trees, or the scent left by a loved one on a pillow. Let's enjoy the journey with our fellow travelers, not just the destination. The past is history. The future is uncertain. Here and now is a gift. Perhaps that is why we call it The Present. Think of the mysterious blue hue in the whites of the eyes in a newborn baby. Marvel at its tiny fingernails. Read Moby Dick again. Skip down the street. If we think of life as a terminal illness, we might live life with joy and passion. This is our only shot. There is no second take. I once met an old man on the beach. We sat on the edge of a concrete pier dangling our feet over the side, and he told me about his life. He sold odd items to the tourists. He slept in a cardboard box; he hid from the police in a tree. However, most of the time he stayed on the pier, facing the water. I asked him why didn't he go to one of the homeless shelters. He just stared out at the ocean and said, "See. Can you see? Do you see it? It is hard to find a homeless shelter with a ocean view." Sage words from a man who ate from garbage cans. Not a dime in his pocket, no place to go, nowhere to be. He already was there. Andersen -30- |
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