Shuffle

Today, in an unmarked interoffice envelope an IPOD shuffle came to my Sales Rep. He is on vacation for the next week and a half. I could have put the ipod shuffle in my purse, the envelope in the shredder and no one would have noticed. Things get lost in interoffice mail all the time, including a $22,000 check I once sent to Home Office (this is a place I have never seen, only heard of, like Oz or alien life). So obviously it would have been stealing, and obviously I would have sweated and acted guilty and and put it on the sales rep’s desk the day before his vacation was over. But I want you to know because I had the choice. I am trying to be satisfied with the unglamorous. All the things I have been choosing lately are far from sequins and diamond studded sunglasses. I look left and I see a road of clean streets, green yards, beautifully painted houses, and a golden retriever. I look right, and I see cardboard boxes, aluminum cans being collected in shopping carts, urine stained streets and pigeons. I look left and I see job promotions, Starbucks Frappaccinos, rock-operas and yoga classes in fresh air. I look right and I see pride swallowing, checks in the mail for NGOs, hanging out with 15 year olds, and walking to the graffiti-colored, smoggy bus stop.

When I was in Manila, I met a man named Attorney Chu. He was a middle class Chinese man living in Manila, who followed Viv Grigg to the slums. Lived for three weeks in a shanty apartment. Packed his bags and went to law school. Now he spends 10 days a month working as a lawyer and 20 days a month working pro-bono for the land rights of the poor, underrepresented, neglected and unloved. He said to me, “Thank you for visiting, it means so much to us. When you work in the slums its like walking towards oblivion.” You become a nobody, forgotten by most of civilization (and a hero to a handful of other forgotten-nobodies).

Viv Grigg recently stopped by Southern California, and among other things he said (something like): The cutting edge of the Kingdom of God are nothing to the rest of the world; they are the gutters. There is nothing to look forward to or take pride in in the slums that are growing larger and more malnourished each day, other than the presence of God.

As I sit on the street corner, choosing between comfort and oblivion, I think about these things. The choosing between A and B when A is fireworks and B is one step further down the road. I am not always sitting and looking. I am shuffling, two steps the right, one to the left. Two more the left, one to the right. I believe there can be satisfaction without fireworks, but sometimes it tastes like uncooked tofu with no soy sauce or any other flavoring.