I woke up today and said to myself, “I’m not going to go in to work today.” Pretty powerful stance when you step back and look at it from an everyday perspective. In our culture an individuals work is a means to measure that individual’s value in society. A way to stand us up to one another, so that the great chooser on the 32nd floor with the double corner office can easily reach down and bless one of his commoners. I thought about that as I was making myself a bacon, egg and cheese omelet for breakfast at 8:13 this morning. I was suppose to be at work at 8 o’clock, dressed in business suit that’s color is intended to project a feeling of respect and responsibility to our firm’s employees and clients; some sort of masked illusion of give a shit I suppose. I thought about that too has I drank my coffee in my plaid pajama pants and white t-shirt, and watched from my kitchen window as the sun began to show itself between the trees behind my house. As I watched the light between the trees reform the landscape through shadows it cast down to the ground; I thought, “that this event happens everyday and I miss this event everyday.” I then compared the sight from my kitchen window to the sight I normally see every morning in my office. There is no sunrise view, no moment of connection to something so pure, no cleansing moment of clarity. That was a lot to weigh upon one’s mind, and it was only now 8:17am.
After breakfast I took a shower and got dressed. Today is Wednesday, it was 8:55am, and I was standing in my living room in a pair of cargo shorts, a blue t-shirt and tennis shoes, with my car keys in my hand. Images began to filled my head of mid-morning meetings around giant corporate war tables, people walking swiftly dressed in respective and responsible color business suits with folders in their hands, and flashing lights on printers whose ink needed to be changed in order to continue to produce the printed corporate will to the masses.
I stood there in my living room for a few minutes, staring at the clock on the wall. The same clock that I just glance at every other morning to ensure that I’m on schedule, that I’m keeping up the pace. But as I watched the clock today, on this Wednesday at 8:55am, it seemed to be moving slower than every other hellishly rushed morning. As I kept looking at the hands on the clock, it seemed as though hands were pausing ever so slightly in a way. Just taking their time on each tick of the clock. It was a like there was no rush to make it to the twelve at the top. I felt a realization tingle its ways over me, it was an insight into something that I could never be able to understand on any other day, but this Wednesday at precisely 8:55 am. It was some sort of shocking wave of electric energy that wired me in to some great unseen energy source. A feeling much like what I think the Buddhist consider to be vipassana.
I did not want to waste one more tick of the clock. I hurried down the stairs and thrusted myself into the mid-morning sunlight. It was so quite out here in the open. It was like that three o’clock in the morning quite; that type of quite that seems almost unnatural.
I started my car and headed out to find my day. I drove out of my neighborhood and down on to the main street. I was stopped by a red light, the same red light that usually I get stopped at 7:25am every other morning. Any other morning the red-light serves as a relief point, a friend on my journey, a place where I can write a text or take a bite of my breakfast without having to worry about trying eating like a five year old. But today it was different, oh yes today it was my adversary, it was a eater. Eater is the only word that seems to fit to howI felt about the red-light. It was the all seeing red eye of Thomas-town Lane.
The red eye demanded a sacrifice in exchange for a safe passage to the harvest fields to say; the ultimate sacrifice might I add. It wanted the very thing that was the most sacred in my day. On the outside to people looking on sitting next to me I probably seem quite calm, but on the inside my blood was already at a full rolling boil. I could at any second just punch my way through the damn windshield, crawling my way on to the hood of the car, kneeling and squeezing fist full of glass, screaming in vengeance towards my defier. Any other day the sacrifice goes unnoticed to me has I sit and text and eat. Giving my very soul so easily for what, a few extra “good jobs” and “way to go’s” from the chosen one on the 32nd floor.
I stared at the eye with an absolute defiance now. Focusing my brain power at the center of the red eye. Forcing my will upon the beast. “Now you will feel my torment,” I thought. Pouring all of the images I could conjure of the minutes, hours, days that I have given without hesitancy to it’s will. At that moment the eye blinked, allowing the passage to take place.
To be continued….