Lori

What if I spent 5 minutes a day thinking creatively about life outside the machine–how rent could get paid and food put on the table, for example, while other sorts of needs, including engagement with dark wonder, as well as light, could also get met? How might we do what Jen’s family did, in her comment on that money post, where we free our money and time up by living in housing that’s below our means, or pool resources with others–whether living in co-housing situations or not–etc. I’ve actually never thought of that! Wouldn’t that be crazy to pool money with a group of people, where some people are making lots and some are making little, even if you aren’t living together? Sounds scary to me.

Ellul talks about the inescapability of technique–technique being anything that pulses toward efficiency, defined a certain way–and I think he’s right. No matter how creative we get, the machine you talk about won’t go away. But, hell! Don’t you want to at least try to live NEXT to it, rather than inside? Or take vacations from it now and then? I want to make bread with that lady! I want to feel sun and rain on my face! And I want the companionship of others who do too.

Anyone want to join me?

Gail, yes, there really are differences in kinds of suffering we all experience. I sure don’t want to downplay anyone’s experience of suffering, no matter what kind it is (it really is exhasperating with your kid won’t eat!), but the differences do seem worth considering sometimes, when trying to have a big picture perspective on things.

Abigail, I’m so glad you stop by! By and large I think guilt is a kind of poison. It feels like you can smell it from quite a distance in those driven by it. Like you say, though, I think it’s sometimes a catalyst for better things. Wonder is too, though–both sides of it–so maybe that’s a more helpful catalyst to pursue than guilt, for those of us yearning to be awake and engaged.

Anyway, thank you for your words.

I keep thinking of the work of Karl Marx. So many times I have returned to his concept of alienated labor, and been amazed at how apt his words remained. He said that in an industrialized, capitalized economic system, people would get more and more alienated from their work, and hence from what he called their “species-being.” That is, every species has things it does that express who/what it is. Humans make things, we shape our worlds with our minds and ideas, and in that we discover more of who we are and what life means for us. When our work consists of doing things which no longer meet our own needs (i.e. buying a chair instead of making one, with money we made doing a menial factory job) we begin to lose our sense of self.

I think this is really contributing, worldwide, to the feeling of being asleep that you describe. At least, its one aspect of it; there are spiritual/psychological reasons too that can’t be explained by this theory. But I think that our current economic system, in which many of us make money by doing things quite disconnected at times from our deepest inner self and from others, we start to kind of lose sensitivity to something vital, to our life-blood. Marx also predicted that alienated labour would lead to being alienated from others; hence countries like Honduras to the south of us struggle to survive, while we are alienated to the north, asleep and totally unaware of the true condition of our reality. For example, we are totally (most of the time) unaware of the ecological devastation our affluence drives; we are cut off from it. In the language of economics, we don’t ever have to see the “negative externalities” of our situation.

I’ll get back to my point: I think our economic system contributes very much to this slumber we are in. We are kept busy trying to pay the rent, pay off the mortgage, finish our education, secure a better job, all good things–and yet sometimes we are so unaware of our real needs. Like the need for connection, and for belonging, and for family, and history with people. Even when we recognize these things, we might feel helpless to know how to change things to meet them; I know I feel that way at times. Like I’m stuck in some big machine in a warehouse, going around on a treadmill, and once in a while I glance out the window and think, “wow! wouldn’t it be nice to go outside, and help that woman make bread who I see outside every day.” Maybe our machines keep us busy, even make us money, but they are not all that rewarding, are they??

“We can do something! We want to be awake!”
Amen.

Lori

Peace to you, Gail