Dave | unobtrusive lucidity

To Vote or not to Vote? That is the Question…

I view politics as an intrusive necessity. Not that they are necessary for the world: I think we would do better with significantly less politics. However, recognizing that, at some level, it is what it is right now, I recognize that I have to make the best of it. For me, that manifests as keeping abreast of debates, and researching each candidate with some level of thoroughness before casting my vote, because I feel it is my obligation, not only as an American but as a Believer, to cast the best informed vote that I can.

Recently, ABC News ran this article discussing the recent surge in registering young voters at rock concerts, etc., and how America’s young voice is heard in a much larger way than it has been for some time. I think that’s outstanding, and I’ve always applauded efforts such as Rock the Vote. That being said, I think the controversial stance expressed in Stossel’s column that some voters are doing a better service by not voting is valid.

There’s something to be learned from Spider-Man philosophy here: “With great power comes great responsibility.” We have a great power as American citizens that comes with living in a democracy (if we truly do…a debate for another day). That power is the ability to collectively elect our leadership. That power, however, comes with the responsibility to be informed. I don’t mean simply checking out a candidate’s website. I mean we have a responsibility to carefully research all candidates, especially presidential ones, to determine where they stand, and how that matches with our worldview and value systems. That means going to multiple news sources, not just to stay up to date about the candidate’s present, but their past as well. It means researching their voting record, because that certainly can’t lie, and it means doing so by going to the original source. Votes of senators and representatives are matters of public record, and are available on the respective government websites (I included that link as an example). Again, there is some discipline involved in researching each item involved in that vote. If we aren’t willing to engage in that sort of discipline, then perhaps abstaining from voting is the better course of action.

Of course, abstaining from anything in our cultural mindset of entitlement isn’t well received, but that doesn’t make it less true. Neither is the act of disciplined research, but we must do so in order to delve beyond what popular media feeds us, because, while objective and unbiased reporting is a key ethical component of journalism, there is precious little of that practiced in the U.S. today.

So, by all means, vote. I think everyone should. But doing so, like academic endeavors, involves doing your homework. The difference is that, if you don’t, everyone gets a poor grade this time.

Streamlining

There’s just too much.

Too much of life, that is. Life itself is overwhelming, even without the extra complications that we add to it. If you’re like me and hyperventilate when you look at your schedule for tomorrow, and can hardly bear to venture a day or more beyond that, then you understand what I’m saying. When exactly did we get this busy?

For me, the issue is that I tend to make hobbies out of tools that should make life run more smoothly. A computer, as I’ve recently discussed on here, is a tool. I don’t seem to be satisfied with this, though…I have to become a Mac enthusiast instead of simply a user, which means I’m now addicted to keeping up with the latest Mac news and being a bit of geek about the whole thing. In fact, I’m addicted to news in general. Perhaps that comes from the fact that I used to do some journalism, I’m not sure. I just know that I must know what’s going on in the world! So, I use an RSS reader in order to be able to simply browse headlines, as well as the blogs I follow. Still, this takes time, and I regularly experience information overload.

I love to read, and I always have a waiting list of books. I think, however, that there was something to the impulsive desiring of a book, determining to get it later, and then forgetting it before my next bookstore visit that used to mark the reading patterns of my youth. Now, of course, I have an Amazon wishlist, where I drop every book that even vaguely interests me in order to keep track of them, and even to hopefully receive them on special occasions. I keep track of what I read with a Visual Bookshelf application on my Facebook page. When I think about how many books I have to read, I get stressed. That really shouldn’t stress me, though, should it?

Making a quiet, contemplative time in the morning to enjoy a couple of cups of coffee and meditate on the Scriptures is critical to me. But lately, I’ve found that I’m constantly looking at the clock. Typically because I’ve overslept, because I was up too late staying abreast of the latest presidential debate, because I have to be a good citizen, and now I have to take out the trash and arrange for the car to get fixed and keep up on my reading and do…ARGH!

Even the things that I love to do stress me lately. The desire to write stresses me, because sitting down to generate this blog post was somehow diminished to one more thing on my to-do list for tonight. I have ideas in my head that are pacing like caged tigers to get out on paper, all of which have to bide their time because I’m too busy. Seriously, something has to be done here.

Lest you think I’m digressing into whining, however…well, okay, I’m whining a little…I think this is a problem with our culture at large. I think we’re all stressed in this way, even the most quiet and contemplative among us. As media has become more accessible, and technology has enabled us to do more, suddenly we’re expected to be more productive, to accomplish more. Worse, we begin to expect this of ourselves, and also of our spouses and family and friends. Soon, we’re too stressed to enjoy anything. We can’t live because we’re too busy getting things done. Do you know how much time I spent choosing the right to-do list application for my iPod? That’s an indication that I just might be too busy.

There are many ways that I’m glad I’m busy. Certainly, I can’t stand to be bored, and I never could. Realistically, however, I don’t think I’m in any danger of that and could certainly stand to have some more free time on my hands right now. There something to being still and knowing that He is God. Actually, there’s just a lot to be said for being still. I think its something that we’ve stopped being able to do. I’m not sure I know how to be still any more, and my streamlining things doesn’t help because…well, because then there’s more to streamline.

And I have to stop writing now, because there’s a hundred other things to do before I go to bed. Like finding a way to de-stress. Yeah, de-stress! That would be good…

In The Rough

I’ve been rehearsing a lot lately.

Actually, not just rehearsing, but painting a set, working on building costumes, directing, consulting, being frustrated, etc., etc. You know, all the great things that go along with theatre. Well, except for maybe the frustrated part, but I’ve never done theatre without that playing into it somewhere along the line.

I love how seriously the community of faith in which I currently work takes theatre. I’m working with a group as passionate about it as any professionals I’ve worked with. We have a full stage and expensive lighting and sound equipment with which to design, a budget with which to build sets and costumes, and all the fun that goes along with it.

I’ve been thinking lately, however, of other places I’ve done theatre. I’ve done it in places with bigger budgets (typically schools), with mediocre budgets (typically community theatres), and with absolutely no budget (typically churches). I’ve done it on stages, in sanctuaries, and on the street. I’ve done it with no equipment and with a lot of equipment. But some of the most fun I’ve had has been when I’ve done it “in the rough,” like improvisational sketches with a youth group or street theatre on a missions trip. That’s when the proverbial rubber meets the road: are you dedicated enough to make it work, and do you have the creativity to take next to nothing (sometimes only the actors) and make the show happen?

I’ve taken to calling it “theatre in the rough” in my mind…you know, like “roughing it” on a camping trip. I’ve had some amazing experiences in the rough; some frustrating, some no end of fun, but all growing me into a better actor or director or designer in the end.

This concept of “in the rough” goes beyond theatre, though. I think of churches who have no building to call their own, that are forced to move in and out of a rented or donated gym or cafeteria on weekends, or to completely migrate across town on occasion. The church in which I do theatre now began like that. I can think of at least one other prominent community of faith that began in the same way. I think when that happens, the mindset is closer to the way the church is meant to function…the worldwide church, I mean. I think the focus in clearer, sort of how theatre’s purpose is clearer when you’re working with next to nothing but determined to make it happen anyway. You come out of those “foxhole experiences” loving your art so much more, being so much more dedicated to it. Similarly, I think communities of faith come out of those experiences with a similar dedication and perspective on God, and what He wants His church to do.

Its completely counter-cultural to the “bodies, bucks, and buildings” concept that dominates church culture here in the Bible Belt. Somehow, everyone thinks that you need a building to be a church body. Certainly, God saw nothing wrong with ornate places of worship, just as theatre had its beginnings with basic sets and facilities. And while it is great to have these things, it is nowhere prescribed as necessary.

Sometimes minimalism is the most educational experience we can have, whether in theatre, in faith, or in any number of other areas of our lives.

Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

How do you deter greed?

I’ve just been wondering a lot recently, because I see so many examples. Of course, the current market crisis and (founded) accusations of Wall Street greed are at the forefront of the news, and therefore dangling it in all of our faces. But it exists elsewhere as well. Recently, the Copyright Royalty Board had to rule against record labels who wanted an exorbitant amount of royalty paid for each song in the digital download market. They were willing to stand in the face of their largest reseller, Apple, who threatened to close the iTunes Store altogether, in order to squeeze more money from their business.

The same way that mortgage investors looked out for no one but themselves in an effort to squeeze more money from their business. Because business, after all, exists for the sole purpose of make money, right? And money makes the world go ’round.

Or so we think. That’s why we abuse our court system with frivolous lawsuits, thinking that we can somehow monetize a wrong that has been done to us. That’s why necessary services in our free-market capitalism, like fuel providers and insurance providers, charge ridiculous amounts of money for their services, because they know we have to have it and so they’re going to capitalize by sucking as much money out of us as they can.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way to maintain one’s sanity, to say nothing of our spiritual peace, is to realize that what we have isn’t what defines us. More numbers in our bank accounts or retirement accounts provide us with a sense of security when, in fact, they are not secure at all, nor will they ever be. Perhaps the only reason that money has gained such a stranglehold on us is because we’ve assigned it so much value to it when it is, in fact, “the root of all evil.”

People are cheated and left destitute for green pieces of paper. People are murdered for coins. Faith is ignored in the interest of profit. Numbers on a statement suddenly are sufficient cause to end marriages. The tangible becomes so much more important to us than the intangible.

If we could glimpse into the spiritual realm for just a moment, I think we would realize how completely and irreconcilably hopeless our confusion on that point is, because it is that point, I think, that leads to all the others. Debating how to repair our economy is of no use as long as money remains the ultimate goal because, as long as money is the goal, we will fall back into the same situation. We will continue to throw away our freedoms away to politicians who are all too willing to snatch them up because of the power their huge salaries gain for them.

We will always be willing to hurt the next person, to deprive them, in order to make our own bottom line, because that, ultimately, is what business is about.

Until people are once again more important than material possessions, the problem will only change appearance…it will never go away.

I wonder when we’ll ever manage to wake up to that.

The Magic of a Smile

Overcome by hunger as Karen and I dropped by the local Barnes & Noble this afternoon to pick up a book, I was forced to the cafe for an over-priced turkey sandwich and a glass of tea. Of course, because I was hungry, the line was hopelessly long, and, with a groan, I took my place at the end behind an elderly woman who was preceded by her walker as she peered into the bakery case.

“Do you know what you want?” she asked.

I should pause and say that, here in the South, it is actually not at all uncommon for people next to you in line to stop and make pleasant conversation such as this. Still, as I’m not originally from the South, I’m still taken aback sometimes. She seemed pleasant, though, and I replied that I was still making up my mind.

As the line eased slowly forward, she asked me again as she neared the cash register, as though willing to let me skip ahead of her in line. “I think I’ve nailed it down,” I smiled, but in such a way that I insisted she go ahead. I could not in good conscience take a spot ahead of this woman.

I was distracted momentarily by the humor of a mother in line behind me asking her child if he intended to “be good,” and receiving a matter-of-fact “no” as a reply (hey, at least the kid’s honest…), before my attention returned to the woman in front of me. Having now completed her order, she was counting out change with the assistance of the barista. She had also paid for her reading selection at this register, and was now confronted with a plate bearing her sandwich, her drink, her just-bagged book, and her walker. She paused, and vocalized her indecision. Another barista took her plate, politely offering to assist her to her seat. The woman was overcome with gratitude.

“Thank you…what’s your name?”

The assisting barista dutifully replied with her name.

“What’s your name?” the woman asked the barista behind the register as well, who also answered. I was smiling at the picturesque scene, and the woman then turned and asked me, “What’s your name?”

“Dave.” I replied, smiling at her and exchanging humored, if quizzical, glances with the barista behind the register.

“Well, you be nice to him.” the woman told the barista, and then, noticing our glances, “You think I’m crazy, but I’m just having a good time!”

And off she scooted to her seat.

While Karen and I sat at a table perusing our reading for the afternoon, I noticed the elderly woman on the other side of the cafe area a couple of times. It struck me that it had taken me less than a chapter of my book to forget her smile and jovial, joyful attitude. However, looking at her across the cafe, she wasn’t smiling at her table, alone, peering into her book, and occasionally looking around. I tried to make eye contact with her once, smiling, but as best I can tell she didn’t see me.

Then Karen said she was ready to leave, and we gathered our things, and I didn’t even mention the encounter with the happy woman until we were in the car. Briefly I thought of going over to her and saying I’m-not-sure-what in the cafe, but this impulse had passed. Now, she is only one of those people I’ve encountered that are relegated to my memory.

But, for some reason, after leaving, I couldn’t stand to forget her.

I’m not going to judge her by saying she was lonely and looking for companionship, or by thinking her to be eroding in her cognition in any way. I’m not going to stereotype her, or belittle anything she may have experienced in her long life by pondering what it might have been. I just know that I smiled because of her, and that is something that happens far too little for any of us, and, for some reason, whatever her name, I wanted to record her smile-inducing efforts here. Perhaps to try to immortalize her in some way, to make sure she isn’t forgotten, at least not by me.

Maybe because, remembering the event several hours later, it still makes me smile.