January 3: Perdition, Business of Medicine and Highter Education, Something Positive

What of it, if some old hunks of a sea-captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, weighed, I mean, in the scales of the New Testament? Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain't a slave? Tell me that. Well, then, however the old sea-captains may order me about- however they may thump and punch me about, I have the satisfaction of knowing that it is all right; that everybody else is one way or other served in much the same way- either in a physical or metaphysical point of view, that is; and so the universal thump is passed round, and all hands should rub each other's shoulder-blades, and be content.

Again, I always go to sea as a sailor, because they make a point of paying me for my trouble, whereas they never pay passengers a single penny that I ever heard of. On the contrary, passengers themselves must pay. And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid. The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. But being paid,- what will compare with it? The urbane activity with which a man receives money is really marvellous, considering that we so earnestly believe money to be the root of all earthly ills, and that on no account can a monied man enter heaven. Ah! how cheerfully we consign ourselves to perdition!

Yes, life is all about money, as Ishmael says here.  Most people (Donald Trump and his clan excluded) spend their lives laboring away at jobs they love, if they're lucky, or jobs they tolerate or hate, if they're normal.  It's what capitalism is all about.  The rich get richer, and the poor slave away, consigned to perdition, as Melville writes.

I decided to take a vacation this week from my job at the medical center.  I've been sleeping in, eating my bowl of oatmeal leisurely, and reading and writing away my morning hours.  And I've been enjoying every minute of it.  That doesn't mean that I haven't accomplished any significant work, however.

Yesterday, I went up into my attic with my daughter and her boyfriend, and we started the process of purging.  Today or tomorrow, a dumpster will be brought to my house, and we will fill that dumpster with the detritus of about 20 years of living.  It was a little difficult letting go of old letters and cards, books, and baby clothes.  However, my daughter needs a room to herself, and the past is the past.

My wife and I did preserve some stuff--baby clothes, birthday and anniversary cards, and such.  However, there is something very cleansing about letting go, as well.  To have time to do this work has been wonderful, even if I'm not getting paid.  In fact, most of the work that I find really rewarding is stuff that I don't receive a cent in compensation for.

I do try to find something positive in every endeavor of my life.  In my work in the medical office, I am dealing with people who are nervous and angry, at times.  Their eyesight is bad, or they are dealing with cancer diagnoses.  They are hurting in some way.  It's my job to make their day a little easier.  Maybe even make them laugh a little.  That is the most important part of what I do, day-in and day-out.

I don't agree with the business of medicine and higher education.  I think that medical treatment is not a privilege.  It's a right.  Ditto for education.  These are things that make people's lives better.  Nobody should have to bankrupt themselves to obtain a higher level of education or a cancer-free existence.  For me, the money-side of healthcare and higher education is close to perdition.

But, I live in a country that thrives on keeping people struggling to pay their bills, heat their homes, put food in their children's bellies, keep themselves healthy.  So I have to work two, sometimes three, jobs.  And, once a year or so, I get a few days to relax, do work that fills the empty cup of my spirit.

Saint Marty is thankful today for sleeping in, oatmeal, and quiet writing.