Being's seven children

Dear Blogosphere,

For those of you who haven't already heard the news (how behind are you?), I have now been jobless in Detroit for about a month.

Yes, it's true.

When my year-long fellowship with Challenge Detroit drew to an end at the end of August, I quit my job at Valassis, and have been full-time unemployed since September 4, 2013.

Because of my new-found 9 to 5 freedom, I have had a lot of time to sit with my thoughts lately. To sit with them, play with them, drink tea with them; giggle with some, and throw others away. Most of these thoughts have been born of the same family- the Being family.

I suppose the truth is that I've been flirting with this family for some time now. As I've taken a pause recently to look carefully back at the last several years, I can't say that I'm surprised by how many of my past decisions, dreams, wants, and trials have come about under the indirect (or direct) influence of the Beings. Their seven children, named Passion, Talent, Purpose, Direction, Wisdom, Conviction, and Adventure are the ones that I have spent the most time with. In fact, even my most recent big decision to leave Valassis is directly related to my growing intimacy with these very loud, loud friends. With the passage of time, they have only gotten louder.

You see, I have spent enough time with the seven of them that I've become pretty familiar with their individual voices and techniques. Passion and Adventure are the most beautiful of the children; they are seductive in their appearances, and their sultry voices whisper to me daily the promises of a radical, vibrant life if I follow them. They tell me stories of faraway places and people; they tease me with pictures of higher heights, deeper depths, and culture, food, and music. They write songs about beautiful things. They tell me that I can have it all.

Purpose and Conviction are the twins who know what they want. My relationship with the two of them is admittedly a slightly unhealthy one. They have been leading me on for some time now. They weave in and out of my thoughts, twisting their long, supple bodies around my limbs feigning closeness with me. Then, when they've got me wrapped tightly, kneeling quietly with my hands folded together and head bowed low, they inch their mouths closer and closer to my ear. Just as I think that they are finally going to whisper their secrets to me, they inhale sharply, and snap back. Just like that. I've been the losing player in this game for years.

Talent is the bi-polar middle child. One moment, he is charismatic and outgoing-- brilliant, really. And in the next moment, he is shy and deeply insecure. He talks to himself, you know. And sometimes, when he's not paying attention, I can even inch close enough to him to hear what he's muttering so quietly under his breath. "You are uniquely hand crafted, you know. Beautifully gifted, designed.. but you're not that special after all. Look at you. Look at him. Look at her. There's no comparison. You never stood a chance. But you are God's beloved child. A creation of the King. Your skills were deposited one by one. You could never really be that blessed.." It's eerie, really, to listen to Talent speak truths and lies to himself day after day after day.

Direction is the eldest brother. His hair- which was, not too long ago, thick and a rich, chocolatey brown- has appeared increasingly thin and grey the last few times that I've seen him. Over our last coffee house date, he told me that he feels lost and tired. He shared with me about the pressure that the rest of the family has laid on him. He told me that he constantly feels stressed out because his younger siblings all look to him for guidance. They tell him that they're too scared to take any steps unless he leads them first. I took a long, slow drag of my vanilla latte as he stared deeply into his hot, heavy black coffee with the saddest, most tired eyes I've seen in a long time.

Wisdom is the most mature of them all. At least that's what she wants people to think. Her outfits are always nice- clean and well pressed. She sits up tall, and stands up taller. She appears well put-together to the untrained eye, but to me- someone who has watched her closely for years, debated with her, played with her- it is obvious that her shiny shoes are scuffed on the bottom, her blouses all have moth-eaten holes, and the threads on her jackets are snagged. The truth is, she doesn't have it all together. She's trying to figure it out as she goes, but she is bitter and resentful about how slowly she seems to be growing up. She tries to dress and speak as if she were an old, wise woman with the wrinkled forehead and deep age lines etched around her jaws.. but, you know, she's only twenty-three. Her act is tired.

Despite all of the vast differences between the Beings, there still appear to be a few things that they all agree on. Quitting Valassis was one of them. When I began considering leaving the Fortune 700 corporation, they all encouraged me enthusiastically. They assured me that I had to be made for something more than a Monday-through-Friday-9-to-5-corporate-desk-job that didn't challenge me, or leave me feeling fulfilled in any way. Plus, it was making me fat. They assured me that this wasn't what I wanted at this moment in my life, and they also cautioned me that if I didn't leave at the benchmarked year's end, I would become comfortable (lazy) and only struggle harder to leave at a later date. When I finally announced my last day at Valassis to them, I was greeted with the most glorious seven-part chorus.

And so, for the past month, I have had lots of time to hang out with the Beings. Lately, we've gotten into wrestling. Which is significant because I actually think wrestling is disgusting. But since I have been guaranteed immunity from broccoli ear and worm fungus, I figure that it's okay this time. Anyway, I can hear them yelling for me from the basement now.. (I promised them that I'd watch "Wreck it Ralph" with them today after church).

Talk soon.

- bcl.