LAST MAN ON BEACH
In the
beginning, the elohim created skies and earth.
Welcome
back. Let's think about solitude.
My job makes
me envy monasteries. How wonderful to live in a sacred outpost like
monks do. A vow of silence, service to the community, and daily
contemplation of God's mysterious being sounds pretty good to me right now.
I work in
hell. Currently, I am working not for a public school, but for a private
educational company that operates the alternative school for a larger school
district in the city where I live.
The company
is run by amateurs who manage all employees with a heavy hand. They use
threats, intimidation, and punitive evaluations to motivate their employees to
stay on top of the insurmountable land fill of paper work. The company
does not encourage best practices. Instead, they have ensconced systemic failure
into their curriculum.
The students
are abusive and bullying. They also abuse and bully each other.
Teachers endure constant hostility every day. The level of profanity
hurled at each of us is more than a normal sailor could bear.
Parents
offer little or no help. They are the ones who taught their children how to talk to
adults. Who could reasonably expect them
to “homeschool” lessons in civility and respect now?
Alas, I find
that mean old snake, my volatile temper, slithering inside my mind with
a vengeance. Anger has dominated my emotions every day since last
August.
Why do I not
quit? Turnover in this company is nearly 100% every year. The only
reason it is not 100% is because four of the original employees who started
with the company in this city remained for another year. I am included
among the four.
To be
honest, I have been searching for another job. I would sing the Johnny
Paycheck song were I offered something, anything that was not minimum wage.
I would teach girls in Afghanistan if I did not have to leave my family
to do it. I would convene class inside the sun if it were not so far away
and technology allowed my students and me to sip an ice cold soda during class.
But if I
could, I would love to swap places with a brother or sister who has sequestered
themselves for the glory of God and see how their devotion works itself out
where I work.
None of
these things are realistic for me. However, a friend suggested that I
walk on the beach after work. It was a good idea. I don't know why
I never did it before. The beach is not so far from where I live.
So I went
today. Suddenly, I found myself in solitude. I had the beach all to myself. I was so utterly alone that I
thought about Vincent Price in "The Last Man on Earth." For
half an hour I might just as well have lived in a world devoid of all human existence except mine.
The cold
wind blew hard over the waves. I wrapped myself tightly within an
emergency blanket since my coat dangled from a hanger within my closet at home.
Tuffs of foam skittered across the
sand. The ones that stuck to the shore fluttered so that the great number
of them appeared to be a huge organism trembling in the wind. Not a bird, not a crab, not a
human in sight--just waves and foam.
My feet
crunched upon tiny shells. The everlasting sweep of the sea filled
my ears. I heard no cars, no hostility, only salty nature pounding earth.
I walked
over places in the sand where people had scribbled messages. One was an
arrow pointing to the ocean. The message said, "Gold is here."
I did not
see that one so well. At first, I thought it said, "God is here."
Of course,
God was all that filled my mind. But I refused to go mystical on myself. I walked, letting the vast Atlantic work its magic just as it did for
Whitman at Paumanok.
I recited,
"The Raven," as madly and loudly as I could against the ocean's undulating din.
"Is
there? Is there? Balm in Gilead? Tell me truly I
implore."
WELL!
IS THERE?
"Tell
this soul with sorrow laden if within the distant Aiden, it shall clasp a
sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore."
WILL IT?
No answer.
Just the sea and me. I would have loved to have heard a word on the
question of eternity. A resounding or
still, small “yes” would have emboldened me to endure whatsoever misery the world required of me. But nothing
indubitable is promised us.
I carried on through thicker sands
away from the waves' reach as the time and duration of my walk wound to a halt.
Blessings...
No comments:
Post a Comment