We don’t need more jobs

We need more fluidity. More connection to each other. When you’re connected to 500 friends why should anyone struggle? We need to lean on each other more. We need to meet each other’s needs.

We need to say “how can I serve you?” And less, “how can I have some money?” How can we serve each other if we don’t know each other’s needs? Craigslist, among friends.

Our resources need to be fluid. Money gets stuck, sucked into vortecies. Into coffers of those who bet on our misfortunes. They told us owning a home was the American dream, an American right. An American tax break. And they built so many, we could all have one. Then, nope, just kidding.

Renting is more fluid. We need to be more fluid. You might get laid off tomorrow, and need to move.

Why should anyone struggle? What if we changed overnight, and we all lived our dreams. Follow me, wade in chaos, swim in the soup of confusion around who we really are. Everyone’s tossed something in that bowl. I want to be an actress, and what if I’m wrong? I want to be the President, and what if I’m wrong? I want to fly airplanes, and what if I’m wrong?

Am I too old to change my mind? How many “no’s” are objective? How many captains are steering your ship?

God says to me, “You’re not ready to live your dream. You’re not dancing with me. You’re flirting with all the other guys. You’re staying too busy.” God is a jealous God. I know that now. He’s not like you. You’re what I want. You’re my symbol. You’re what keeps running away from me and I keep chasing you. You won’t love me back. You have your own agenda.

Would I recognize God if he looked me dead in the eyes?

Stirring

Pulling, churning,

Stealing my happiness.

Angry, set off, neurotic,

Just like us.

Critical, controlling,

Untrusting.

Dismissive and superior.

What’s best for us

Is that we are free.

How can we be free together?

Angry songs and dropping bombs

What’s the lesson in this tension?

Maybe I’m ready to stand up and fight

Maybe I’m ready to die.

The stifling reality of being limited

In a world of infinite glory

Could I ever love enough?

Trust enough

In the umbilicals that are growing toward me?

Can I forget my inability to overpower my abuser?

Can I sing with this voice?

Do I have a choice?

I’m on stage

The light’s on

They are waiting.