I’m Freaking Out

I felt like writing a blog this evening. I really did. I’m usually kicked off the laptop by my much more industrious wife so I resigned myself to the 4 year old refurbished Vaio. Bad move — it took half an hour just to get to the browser before my wife, in an act of mercy, handed over the Mac Air. Unfortunately by the time I got my hands on this little sucker I was seriously frustrated, angry, stressed. But am I really angry about all this? Perhaps, but I think not. I think what’s really bothering me is something most men have learned to internalize. Every Monday I have to forget that I had unfettered access to my kids. That as a family we moved through our lives intertwined with the casual intimacy and ebb and flow that comes with family life. Every Monday I have to say goodbye to all that and disappear into the cold dry harshly lit corridors of work-a day ‘reality’.

How odd after a Friday night filled with family, ritual and friends, a Saturday morning of french toast made from left-over homemade Challah and a weekend of sweet and constant company of my darling wife. Come Monday I am awake, showered and gone. So perhaps on this wintry Monday night that is why I am angry. Poor excuse I guess when I think of those that yearn for a decent paycheque. Every night is not the Sabbath. In fact it is said that for six days of the week we “do” so that for the one day we can “be”. The Sabbath, as Abraham Joshua Heschel says, is about the architecture of time but as I think on it, perhaps the effort must be applied to taking the lessons of the 7th day and allowing them to infuse the doing of the other six days of the week.

www.newsabbathproject.com suggestion. Leave your work cell off from Friday night to Saturday evening.

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6 thoughts on “I’m Freaking Out

  1. Hi Ralphie, You have a right to be pissed. Cold dry harshly lit corridors don’t sound like much fun. But if you were more of an internalizer, like me, (want lessons?) I could give you two more things to be pissed about. 1. I should have really enjoyed them all a bit more, instead of spending 15% of the time bickering, 10% complaining about the noise, and 5% sneaking off to read my novel. 2. I have a similar feeling of loss on Friday, when the work-week is over. This is no doubt a hold-over from my days in a not-so-good marriage, when the weekends really did spell a loss of independence, meaning, structure, and did I mention meaning? But there are still vestigial traces (I’ve always wanted to use that word). Ah well. Be here now. Was that in the Old Testament or something more recent?

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