Even in soulless Corporate America

Y'all, I have figured out I can do this job and still remain a soft, loving, reasonably sane woman. Well, not figured out. I experienced it. Oh goodness, lemme just tell you the story.

Ever since I started this corporate gig, I have been increasingly crabby and grouchy and dare I say bitchy. Yes, bitchy. I was running on empty and you know what that is right? A recipe for disaster. I felt under so much pressure, and my emotional bank account was so overdrawn.

In my old job which didn't pay much and was often frustrating as hell, I worked from home. So I was free to put things into my day that fed my soul. nourished my heart. Stuff like long walks out in nature powerwalking my way down a jogging path with nothing but green and the music in my ears. Stuff like having the house all to myself during the day and going into the gameroom and cranking up the stereo, pushing back the furniture, and dancing and singing my little heart out. And you know how you dance when nobody's lookin'? I danced like that. I would start out dancing like I danced in dance class and then passion would take over and I would just whirl all over that room! I'd feel breathless and alive and fabulous.

I had a lot of freedom in my schedule for quality time with my girlfriends, several of which I'd have lunch with on a regular basis. I had a nourishing encouraging support group that I was a part of. The group was led by a woman therapist and we slowly worked and grew our way through several books and workbooks like Boundaries and Healing for Damaged Emotions. And y'all know, I want to live right and be healthy and I need all the help I can get. And there was SO much love in that room as we all fought and grew together. Cause growing, real changes in the heart is a struggle, and you needs lots of people who love you who celebrate your little victories and hold you hand when you need to cry.
So, yeah, I didn't make much dough, but I had a really good world.

And then I got this corporate gig downtown.

And all the things in my life that nourished me went away.
And the pressure on me and the demands of me increased.
And the time! The sheer force of hours.
Cause I'm back in cubicle land. and for nine hours a day they want me to sit still and be quiet. And I'm me. Miss Dance-Joy-Vivaciousness. Trying to be quiet. And it's so hard for me to be still it nearly bout makes me ache. Oh, and did I mention, my dance class closed for the Summer? So really, all these lovely nourishing things in my life went away.

But the money is so good. I mean, I've made more, but I've certainly made less and this job allows me to pitch in on some financial goals that are really important to Delighted Husband and me. Paying off debt for one thing. And start up capital for my new venture for another. So I was in this gig for the duration.
And dying on the vine.

And ya'll know how unreligious I am. and while I enjoy the social, community aspect of church (and hey they also have a great band) my primary way to connect with my spirituality has been my singing, my dancing, my nature walks and bike rides.

So I was socially spiritually and emotionally overdrawn. I was a mess.

Okay I'm getting to the good part, I swear. I just wanted you to know how bad it was.

So this week, I remembered I had music on my pocket pc. It had been so long since I listened to music on my pocket pc, I mostly use my mp3 player, I had forgotten. But I'd heard everything on my mp3 player over and over, it was my workout list for the gym and I didn't think I'd find my get sweaty fired up music comforting.

So I did "play all" just to see what was there on my pocket pc.

And oh, you guys, it was Chris Rice. An instrumental from The Living Room Sessions. Savior Like a Shepherd Lead Us. Now as I told my girlfriend Pro Deo Sum on the phone today, as much as I complain about growing up in a Christian home, I am really glad I grew up hearing and singing the old hymns, because back in the day the people who wrote hymns were people who lived lives of struggle. We're talkin' big time suffering here, people and those lyricists knew what it was like to feel your soul had sprung a leak and the next gas station was 15 miles away. They knew. So these hymns speak comfort to me like nothing else. So I listen to dear Chris Rice play this hymn, and he has such a light touch. I mean, when Chris Rice does a hymn, if his music were cooking it would be a light garlic sauce that enhances the flavor of everything else and doesn't cover it up. Not your ponderous old Granny music. Light and airy and graceful. Are you followin' me here? I'm doing my best to describe the song because I don't think I can find it on you tube. Anyway, so there's the song. And the gyst of the lyric is "Jesus please be our good shepherd and take good care of us cause we're weak and we're hungry and we're sheep so we're limited in our ability to do anything about it."

When I heard this song, I heard all this comfort that I wasn't feeling. I remembered all the amazing spiritual moments I'd had on the jogging path. And I sat there in my cubicle. And it was like pressing your nose against the glass and seeing this happy dinner party going on inside without you. I heard love. I heard intimacy. I heard connection. I heard joy. I heard togetherness. and I wadn't gettin' any of it. And it just tore me up. So I closed my eyes, and I thought, "Jesus I miss you so much I can hardly stand it. In fact, I can't." And instantly, He was there. When I opened my eyes, I saw my computer screen and heard nice music in my earphones. When I closed my eyes, I saw this movie in my mind of Jesus standing before me, looking—as he always does in my mind's eye—like my brother Brian, with Celtic green eyes beaming with love and looking at me with such delight. I blinked back and forth a couple of times, stunned in a happy way. I opened my eyes, I'm smack dab in the middle of soulless Corporate America. I close my eyes, and Jesus is holding my hands and looking into my eyes with such love and we are dancing like children up and down the aisles of cubicle land. -SW

PS
Oh and tomorrow morning, I'm loading up my bike in the shagmobile and I'm hitting the bike trails. Oh yeah!