camera to my eye

This past weekend I went down to the NATO protests in Chicago, to see what all the fuss was about and take some photos.  There were a lot of police, a lot of people angry at a lot of things(though sometimes it was hard to tell exactly what they were angry at).  There were a lot of people dressed funny, and a lot of people calling for peace. 

As the parade was passing me by and people were shouting slogans and waving signs, a man approached me.  He was young, I would say in his twenties.  He told me he was a traveling monk, or maybe on his way to be a monk, and was trying to spread the word about meditation.  This piqued my interest since I have been practicing Vedic meditation for the past year and a half.  So we talked for a couple of minutes, and he said he wanted to give me a book.  It’s a book he is trying to pass to as many people as he can.  The book takes the lessons of the Bhagavad Gita, and explains them more in depth for our modern tastes.

From the moment he approached me I have to admit I was a bit “en garde”.  When ever some one approaches you on the street of course they always “want” something.  From all my years living in the city, I am hyper aware of this and I dismiss any interactions like this.

As a monk, he wanted to give me the book.  Of course any donation would be greatly accepted.  Of course!  There it is!  Money!  Of course he wants money!  I tensed up just a bit at this.  But, because it was something I have an interest in, and in the spirit of being a meditator and open to spiritual musings I was going to oblige him.

I took out my wallet and all I had was a five dollar bill.  At the sight of this five dollar bill, dread took over, and I immediately had all these “fight or flight” sensations.  You see, I am unemployed.  Money is tight.  And boy did that $5 bill look like $500 to me.  There was just no way I could part with that $5 bill for a bit of spiritual enlightenment.  I kindly handed the book back to him, said I was sorry, and scampered away as quickly as I could.

What was that about? 5 dollars?  I got that uptight about 5 dollars?  It’s just 5 dollars.  It’s nothing really.  Why was it that I couldn’t part with that 5 dollars?  Sure I am unemployed and feeling the economic crunch that comes with that.  But, surely 5 dollars isn’t going to cause me to be homeless.  Perhaps it was the thought I was somehow being taken advantage of.  No one who walks up to you in the middle of the street asking for money could ever do you any good…right?

I mean where does it end?  What if there was a 10 in my wallet instead of a 5?  Would I be feeling this same way?  I mean $10 isn’t really that much either.  Where is the line? $20? $50?

I guess I am just upset at myself for missing a chance.  A chance be open.  A chance to give without expecting anything back.  I chance to open myself up so that something could fill the space.  This is something I really want to work on.  Being more generous. Not only of my money, but of my time, my love, myself.  To give and give without wanting anything back.  I’ll put that off until I get a job though, I just don’t have the cash right now.

This is my first week of unemployment.  I am sure there will be more.  Even though my unemployment was my choice, there is still something that makes me feel slightly off balance about it.   This week has been full of ups and downs.  I have been working out and trying to stay healthy which has been great.  There have been periods of depression where I think “what the fuck am I doing”.  There has been a lack of human interaction, which funneled into those moments of depression (chicken or egg?).  There has been a general sense of “What do I do now?”

I had been at my job 4 years.  I would say I hated it for 3 of those years, and really dreaded it for 2 of those years.  It wasn’t really the company or what they stood for or how they worked that bothered me.  It was just the position I had.  I sat in front of a computer all day, looking at spreadsheets and numbers and databases.  That just isn’t me.  And though I only considered it a “day job”, to do the monotonous work day in and day out just drained me.  That along with a personal relationship there that could fill me with joy or break my heart on any given day, finally led me to my decision to leave…with no where else to go.

I would like to commit myself to a creative lifestyle.  What does that mean?  It means trying to make a living from being creative.  It has taken me 35 years to realize this is who I am.  This is me at my happiest.  I am not quite sure how to do this.  One of my problems is that I am not focused.  I have too many interests.  I love acting, I love theatre, I love photography and there are a hundred other things I would love to try.  I have a bit of trouble focusing I guess, either that or I just get excited by everything, like a little kid.

I am sure I will have to have another “day job” here in the very near future.  But, I really need to commit to the creative side of me.  Perhaps if I don’t have a job that drains me I will feel more energy to give to that part of me.

For now I am just going to throw a bunch of stuff at the wall…hoping something will stick.