Was bewildered today when sussurations of a mostly nefarious nature started seeping into my consciousness: ‘are you sure you can meet the deadline?’ My first thought in reply: ‘Can’t we?’ Uh oh. I couldn’t give in to despair, though. Could only take the dire warning into my stride and beg off panicking for now.
Took a walk during lunch to clear the head in the bracing cold. Was rewarded with an azure sky, the sight of a line of suited male models of vaguely Italian origin, sparkling in the sun as they brandished briefcases for the camera, and the warmth ensuring from this answer to the question that had been simmering within:
Question: What is the chief end of man?
Answer: Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him for ever.
— The Westminster Shorter Catechism (AD 1647)
Then a more disturbing question surfaced as the day wore on, and I realised that I was going to miss yet another appointment with what’s supposed to be most precious to me:
Question: Have my priorities become so screwed up that my life is in fact dedicated to pleasing sociopaths? (It’s supposed to be God first, then everything and everyone else!)
Answer: Heck, yes, and the more I exert the authority of my will, the softer are the blows of my remorse. Sickness!
I don’t want to be like this. I hope I’m not in the ‘losers’ row. I’d rather be among the ‘clueless’. But I want no part of ignorance and idiocy either! And I’d much prefer being with the ‘losers’ in the world’s eyes, than be counted among its sociopaths.
Thinking out of the box is no longer good enough. I have to think outside the pyramid! Outside the system … the systematic dismantlement of my socially constructed self in favour of the application of systemic theology to the bare bones of my soul. Let me die to myself.