Sometimes, I think I understand Ahab's obsessive focus. Morning, Moby Dick. Afternoon, Moby Dick. Evening, Moby Dick. Night, Moby Dick. For years, that has been his life, with his ivory leg to remind him if his mind wanders to contemplate things like breakfast or prayer or his young wife. It's all he can think about.
That pretty much describes my life these last few weeks. I've been worried about two things: work and teaching. It's kind of impossible for me not to be preoccupied. It's a matter of being able to pay my bills, feed my family, and buy the medicines my family needs. Or not. I wake up in the middle of the night, lie in bed, and stew about it for a couple hours. When I'm at the medical office, I look around and wonder how much longer I'll be working there. When I'm in the classroom, my students ask me what I'm teaching next semester. I'm like Ahab at sea--I can't escape my white whales.
Today, one of my worries was settled. I found out the classes I will be teaching next semester. I won't be teaching film or literature. The life of a contingent is pretty simple: you accept the scraps left over after all the full-timers and teaching assistants get their teaching assignments. The pickings were pretty slim this time. However, I have two classes. I should be grateful. One of my worries is gone.
My other white whale is still out there somewhere. That means another fairly sleepless night for me. I know that I should have a little more faith. At least, that's what I'm taught every Sunday. Putting my trust in my Higher Power. That's a little difficult for me. I'm much more comfortable with worry. I put it on every morning like a shirt. Change into it every night like a scratchy pair of pajamas.
My life would be so much better if I could practice what I hear preached in church. I'm not really good with unknowns. Or change. I'm sitting in my living room at the moment, watching the George C. Scott version of A Christmas Carol. I'm struck that Scrooge lives most of his life in fear. He hoards money and possessions because he fears the possibility of failure and poverty. His stinginess is a symptom of his lack of faith and compassion.
My life would be very different if I could leave my Ahab-self and Scrooge-self behind. I certainly would be sleeping better. I haven't had my Scrooge moment yet. That's when Ebenezer abandons his fear and doubt. When he embraces hope and joy and faith.
Saint Marty needs to be visited by three spirits tonight: the Ghosts of Special Hot Chocolate Past, Present, and Future.
God bless us! Everyone! At least until the spirits wear off.
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