The Great Imposition

I’ve got a very magnetic personality when I sit down to write. This charisma is potent and arrives without warning and stays suspiciously for the same length of time I’m at the computer. The phone vibrates to life, my doorbell rings, the cat eyes me like a giant stalk of catnip with an uncontrollable urge to use my leg as a scratching post, and laundry that was heretofore folded neatly in drawers spontaneously erupts into perturbed messes, requiring immediate attention.

And if I still manage to write anything during the enchanted mayhem, the magnetism disappears as quickly as it came. I’m back to being myself, with a quiet phone and the cat ignoring me. This has nothing to do with anything, I’m just telling you about my day. Hey, how’s your New Year considering we’re one week into it?

Poised at the tippy top of 2009, much is being said about the ending of the Mayan calendar in 2012. A friend had something to add about this imminent mystery, “Yes, 2012 is verrrry important. It's right after 2011 and right before 2013.” I thought I’d pass that gem along.

And speaking of “along,” I saw a canned soup commercial today that showed a long line of people waiting to sample their newest flavor. It took a nanosecond, but then I realized the words of the ad might be suggesting the taste is worth the wait, but the message and image was that of a soup line. Fear sells, baby. Are we buying?

Last December, the front page of our local newspaper finally announced lowered gas prices, but that delightful news was trumped by headlines of dour sales predictions. Another story below the fold tried to connect a decrease in video poker sales as proof positive of a failing economy, however, when following the words to the next page, the article was really about Oregon’s January 1st smoking ban.

Subsequent articles are reporting about couples staying together for money, not love (they want to divorce, can’t because of finances), and about drinkers who are considering giving up cigarettes because of the recent smoking prohibition in bars.

Pop quiz: What does the Mayan calendar, soup lines, video poker, drinking, smoking and the economy have in common? Imposed healing.

It’s no secret that smoking, drinking and gambling all come with warning labels. I’ve yet to see a crisis hotline for joy, or hear cautionary tales about fulfillment and well being. As creation speeds up and more energy is thrown at humans than at any other time in history, the Universe is also willing to supply tools for the challenge. First fire, then the ice age.

Gambling and smoking go sweetly together, as do drinking and smoking. If they didn’t, tavern owners wouldn’t be frustrated over the new law in fear of losing business. For the couples who want to divorce, but can’t because of escalating mortgages, or for those at risk of financial ruin, the idea of “imposed healing” might be absurd, possibly insulting.

But if you’re not addicted to alcohol, nicotine and the thrill of the payoff, or living in the middle of estrangement and can stand back and witness, it’s interesting to interpret current events as tools for healing.

I cannot speak for everyone, but as an observer of human behavior, I have noticed that people drink, smoke and gamble more when their lives are underscored in pain, not when they are fulfilled. I’ve yet to meet a thriving being, lulled into a trance by the promise of numbness.

When a person is allowed to sit and smoke while drinking and gambling, the payoff in terms of self-soothing is immediate. But when the person is forced to disrupt their drinking or gambling in order to get a nicotine fix, then their pattern is interrupted, the momentary flow gone. This invites the person to break the pairing, for they must stop one to do the other.

In matters of the heart, romantic love is a fairly new idea. For the majority of history, people have had to stay together out of necessity and circumstance. Families needed each other and did not have the option of leaving when things got tough because things were always tough. The tribe’s survival depended on each member’s contribution.

Maybe the downturn in the economy is also an invitation to heal. It’s been said that some of the happiest people on earth are not those with an abundance of riches, but an abundance of relationships. No, I’m not suggesting in the least that poverty is good for the soul, but I am suggesting that if we’re looking, we might discover treasure.

In one possible scenario, a couple who’s not getting along might be forced to live through that awkward and disappointing phase of a relationship when the sexy hormone goes flat, and everything about the other person feels certifiable. A greater bond might be created when people cannot as easily cut and run when things are difficult.

“Death midwives” is a new term being introduced to the mainstream. These are specialists who help next of kin navigate outside the funeral industry’s red tape to host home funerals to save major moolah. While the idea of burying Aunt Martha in the backyard or having Uncle Marvin stretched out on the dining room table might be a tad shocking, I recall reading one of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series and coming upon a passage about a funeral scene at home. I was thinking how heartwarming it would be to have that kind of tradition during times of grief. Of course, that was before the “deceased” sprang to life, scaring the behooties out of everybody.

But my point is about getting back to basics. Many of us have never even experienced the basics. Some children don’t know what a home cooked meal is, or had the opportunity to play kick-the-can with other neighborhood kids. It may not be the worst thing to have multi-generations living under one roof, all ages joining in the food prep or hanging out in the “parlor” after dinner playing non-electronic games.

If the 1930’s produced the Great Depression, perhaps this recession might become known as the Great Imposition. Many things about it could feel like an unwelcome burden, but those Impostidors (it’s a play on Conquistadors), such as the new smoking ban, or tighter finances, might just provide the tools for healing and force us to get creative in ways we didn’t know we could. The Great Imposition might also be a giant gift, endowing us with the blessings of community, stronger relationships and a sense of accomplishment that our spirits know we need.