It's Beyond Me

Paul Stookey once, in one of those concerts they rebroadcast on PBS when they beg for money, pointed out how the popular magazines have narrowed their focus. We used to read TIME and LIFE. Then PEOPLE and US. Then SELF. When, I think he asked, would we see the magazine "ME?" We're essentially there. 

It doesn't mean we're evil, just narcissistic. People with a sense of self don't spend all their time looking for themselves, they get on with their lives. They don't define themselves by the house they have or the stuff they own, so all of that keeps its innocence. I love stuff. I love nice things, but the intangibles as well.

Good conversation, a dinner with friends when everything somehow gels and you don't know how, immersive weather--immersive anything, when you lose yourself in some simple experience--and all the rest. Yes, I'm the model. Be like me. Maybe that would work. I don't know, but what if my house burned down? 

I would mourn like hell, mostly for my art, but then I could reinvent myself in a casita somewhere and bag groceries at a high-end food store and flirt with all the single mothers. Okay, grandmothers. Our lost innocence goes beyond an addiction to stuff, though. Somewhere we lost our sense of connectedness.

Very, very bad. In Paul Stookey's observation is the key to our survival, granting it's not exactly a war-cry. Christianity is profound in this, its understanding of the social dimensions of everything. We are a people and part of creation, all interconnected. It really matters.